Caught on camera having sex at work

2020.10.25 13:43 manofwar26 The Flenderman files: The case of the Rag-tag killer (Part 3 of 3)

It's a busy day at the office when a police car arrives in the car park. A detective walks in and comes over to reception
Detective: " My name is Detective Johnston, I'm here looking to speak with a Toby Flenderson."
Pam: " Do you wanna wait here, and I can get him for you?"
Michael walks out of the office looking worried.
Michael: " Is everything okay out here Pam?"
Pam: " This is Detective Johnston, Michael. He's here to speak with Toby."
Detective:" Who are you?"
Michael:" Regional manager Scott! How may I serve? What do you need with Toby?...." lowers voice, " Is this about the murders. Because in his book, I'm the murderer, but thats wrong, I don't murder, or eat people. Is he being arrested for making me a murderer? "
Detective:"..... Umm, what?....."
Michael :" I have evidence. There's a journal. With everything bad I've ever said about Toby. In a bunker. Also, I'm pretty certain the man is a crazed sex molestor....."
Detective:........" I'm here as part of an active investigation. Can you point me to Mr Flenderson please? "
Michael:" Most definitely. Come this way. "
Michael talking head, tearful :
" It's finally happening.... The day has finally come. They're going to take Toby away......." cries with joy." Oh god, finally..... Thank you!!!! Thank you Lord..... "
Cuts to scene of Creed sneaking out the fire escape of the building, a camera man catches him.
Creed:" Hey Whoah man! You're not a fed, are you? No, okay.... You didnt see me. I'm just the janitor, if anybody ever asks. I never worked here, and if anybody asks about it, it was all that maniac Creed, not me, he made me do all of it. My names Wendall by the way, Wendall Iverston. "
Switches to view of Creed walking away from the building with a blonde wig on, a new suit, signalling for a taxi.
Scene change to detective and Michael approaching Toby in the annex.
Michael:" Oh boy, you're busted!!!! It's over Flenderson. The long arm of the law.... Caught up with you. Any last words?"
Toby: " What is this? Who are you?"
Michael: " Justice has come for you, Flenderson."
Dwight suddenly appears behind them holding up his assistant deputy sheriffs badge and a pair of handcuffs.
Dwight:" You have the right to remain silent, anything you do say, will be held again-"
Detective: " Excuse me sir, what in gods name are you doing????"
Dwight: " Arresting the perp. I'm Deputy assistant Sheriff Schrute-"
Detective: "First of all. You're not a cop! No more than the mole on my ass is a cop. Secondly, I'm not here to arrest Mr Flenderson. I'm simply here to speak with him....I think he might able to assist me in an ongoing investigation."
Michael:" What.... I dont.... Understand? "
Toby:" Anything I can do to help, officer. "
Toby talking head:
" It's finally happening. It was only a matter of time, really. When I was a younger man I always thought I could be that guy, that guy the detective goes to to better understand the murderer. Its actually how Chad flenderman became a detective in my book. Then he had to retire, because he'd been falsely framed for murder himself by Milbur Scrythe. But that'll be delved into more in my next book, which actually takes place eight years before the case of the Rag-tag killer. Buckle your belts..... Its gonna be a wild ride, folks...... "
The Detectives takes Toby into the conference room to talk, while everybody stands outside speculating excitedly on what it could be about.
Michael:" I always knew it. I knew it, I knew it.... Toby was the murderer all along... "
Jim:" But there hasnt been a murder, Michael. So you don't know anything."
Oscar: " Actually, there has been a murder! Just saw it on my news feed. A twenty year old Scranton woman was found dead, her body cannibalised, in a ditch just south of Scranton."
Michael:" And to think.... We've been living with this monster the entire time... Working with him.... We could have stopped it.... "
Jim:" Again, Michael, they haven't arrested him. We don't know anything. "
Dwight: "Maybe Jim was the murderer, and he's framed Toby!"
Jim: "Yep, that's definitely it."
Detective steps out of the conference room, with Toby behind him.
Detective: " You've been extremely helpful Mr Flenderson, thank you!"
Toby: " No problem."
Michael: " So, um, Detective, will you be taking Toby to jail now... Because, its five, and people want to go home...... So..."
Toby: " I'm not under arrest Michael. I was just helping Detective Johnston on a case. "
Detective:" He's actually been a great help. Thank you again Toby. "
The office gathers around Toby talking to him excitedly except Michael.
Oscar:" So did you help solve the murder, Toby? "
Toby smiling sheepishly:" You know I can't talk about that guys! Let's just say I gave the Detective some inspiration.... "
Jim: "Woohooo Toby! Do you think they'll catch them?"
Toby nodding knowingly: " I think they've got him in their sights.....thats all I'll say."
Michael: " YOU BASTARD!!!! DID YOU SAY IT WAS ME!!!! AGHHHHHHHH!!!"
Toby: " Michael, what....?
Michael:" You sneaky bastard, you framed me!!!! That's why I'm in your book!!!!! "
Jim:" What is wrong with you??"
Michael: " Read it Jim. I'm Miles Sanders. Like, seriously, that good looking a guy happens to be your boss in the book? And he loves Chinese food, which I also do. And he also eats people, and has sex with dead people. "
Toby:" Michael, we've been over this. You're not miles. "
Michael runs off out of the office, leaving everybody bewildered.
Michael talking head:
" So in the movies, the guy who's been framed has to lay low for a while. I've booked a few personnel days, and plan to go hiking..... In the pocanoehs. May not come back.... Keep track of the news.....so if you don't see me for a while.... Now I'm going to miss the 4th of July..... I was going to sit in and watch Independence day.....but now it's ruined.... "
Toby talking head:
" So it turns out my new book inspired an actual killer..... Which I helped catch. Pretty great to be able to help..... They cancelled the book deal though. Had to take the chrysler back... Turns out the guy has already killed ten women. One of the worst serial killers Pennsylvania has ever seen..... They're calling him the Flenderman murderer. They even had my picture in the article..... People threw blood at my house..... Can't clean it off...... Might have to go to Puerto Rico for a while..... "
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2020.10.24 08:28 BlueDaisy62 Caught on camera having sex at work

Back in July of 2019 I started a new job. I was in a long term 4 year relationship, and living with his mom (we had our own house but moved in with his mom to 1)save money to buy a house but 2) his dad and little sister needed a place to live so we let them have that place)
when I started this new job i met a group of people who basically helped me realize how toxic of a relationship I was in and the potential happiness I could have else wise. I also met another guy who, in all honesty, I fell in love with.
No I didn't cheat or anything, but I knew for a long time that I wasn't in love with the high-school sweetheart and that there were so many warning signs that I should have left sooner (he constantly screamed at me and made me feel worthless, I felt like I was there just for him to say he had a girlfriend and have sex, he gamed 24/7 and constantly chose his games over hanging out with me or even taking care of his health)
these friends (let's call them friend A and friend B) gave me what I needed most in that time: a place to stay if I broke up with him.
I took that opportunity and broke it off, staying at their place for a day and then deciding with them the next day that I would sublet from them, splitting ret and utilities 5 ways. (It was a three bedroom house, and it was friend As sister and her that lived there, but her mom eventually moved in and for some reason friend A and friend B decided even though they were not living there , they would continue to pay 2/5 of rent to try to help out their family.)
I had 4 dogs and 3 guinea pigs with my ex. I only took the two dogs that were technically mine.
Moving in i didn't have a bed or any furniture besides my desk pc and TV, they allowed me to use their bed. The people in the house didn't particularly like dogs either so they would be stuck in my room 24/7 unless I took them out for walks. ( the back yard was occupied by friend As dog and wasn't dog friendly so I couldn't put my pups out there) I work 12 hour night shifts 3-4 days a week.
Anyways, because it wasn't my bed and the housemates didn't like dogs, I ultimately had to crate my pups 24/7 except for 2 walks a day (one before I left for work one after I got home.) This was an extremely stressful situation for the dogs and ultimately they started having explosive and bloody diarrhea 2-3 times a day.
The only solution I could think of at the time was to keep them in the bathroom some days so that I didn't have to keep steam cleaning the carpet around the crate as well as easier clean up (the bathroom was tile) and not having to get even more shit on the carpet having to take them to the bathtub. (I have a bordercollie and a jack chi)
This living situation was pretty shit and was even worse for friend As mom who had to share a bathroom with me and would often express how upset she was about the dogs being in there. I made a decision in January 2020 to try to find better living arrangements, as nice as it was having lower rent costs.
Which brings me to the actual "Am I the shit roomate?" Story.
There was another coworker who I ultimately befriended. Looking back it was a fairly toxic friendship. I made a few bad jokes/said things that she took out of context and we joked about, but then she would introduce me to new coworkers like that: " oh hey! Have you met (me) yet? Yeah she called me a *****" it eventually got to the point where people i hadn't even met would say oh right! You're the one who said "xyz"
Anyhow, I had vented alot of my frustrations to her about my ex and current living situation. we became, in her mind, best friends; and in a way I just accepted that. Though I don't think I ever felt as strongly connected to her as she did to me. I was really more interested in being best friends with Friend A because they had helped me so much and I was so grateful, but I appreciated this coworker and trusted her (well just call her roomie for the sake of later)
Roomie was new here and moved from Guam to live with her sister about 2 years back. During DecembeJanuary she started fighting with said sister and was looking for a place to move to.
I originally denied the idea because I was content with living at Friend A and Friend Bs place, however when the dogs conditions started to degrade I knew I needed to find a new place asap, so I ultimately said sure, let's find a place together.
We found a nice 2 bed 2 bath apartment, 3rd floor. My only condition with living with her was that the dogs were allowed to be out and about and not locked in the cage. She agreed 100%. We moved in end of February 2020 signing a 14 month lease.
For the first few weeks I kept the dogs caged while I was at work because they were having issues pooping and peeing on the carpet. I invested in one of those porch potties so that they could just go out and do their business on the porch instead of having to hold it for 12 hours and three flights of stairs. (This would ultimately become a problem)
Move in costs were a bit higher than I had excepted and I hadn't exactly been planning on moving out so soon so I only had maybe 2 weeks worth of paychecks saved and my tax return. I used all of it on downpayment and first months rent and still ended up owing her around 600$ which she said was fine and to just pay her back when I could, but not to worry.
We moved in and the first... I'm going to say 2 weeks, were okay. We didn't have any furniture but I did have a lot of kitchen stuff from when I used to live with my ex, so we bought bean bags and used those for a bit. Eventually within those two weeks we went to the store together and found a papasan chair that we both liked, I ended up buying it. We also found a nice little TV stand, I also bought.
About a month in is when COVID 19 lock downs started to get really serious in our state. The guy that I had fallen in love with before when I was with my ex? Me and him started dating about a week after that break up (thats a whole other story tbh) so at this point we where together for about 4 months.
Originally he had been coming over in the first week or two and then leaving to go home, were he lived with his grandparents, after I fell asleep. He didn't have a key so roomie got mad when the door was left unlocked all night.
And here is our first issue.
Me, I thought okay well I guess let's get him a key? So I went and made a spare and was honestly kind of nervous because this would be a big step in our relationship, so I told roomie on the way to work that I had made a spare and was thinking about giving it to my bf.
She flipped out and said I had gone behind her back and that I should have talked to her about it, but ultimately that yeah it was fine to give him the key. I waited a week to give it to him after that.
About a week after that is when COVID really kicked in and to make a long story short, he asked if he could temporarily move in with me because his grandparents where high risk. I said of course, and we brought it up to roomie.
She was upset at first (honestly I don't remeber why) but said yeah it was fine and she thought it was really sweet that he was looking out for his grandparents.
Let me go back real quick and fill yall in on one or two other back storys that I promise will make sense and this whole thing will come full circle.
Roomie and the bf are no strangers. We are all coworkers, tho bf does work in a different department (he also gets payed more which will come into play later) and we all would go out drinking and partying together.
In January, we threw a group bday party because we had so many friends with January bdays including, me and the bf. To make a long story short, it was a weird time of our relationship. We were technically "open" and we got very drunk that night. Leading to a 5 way make out session between me, roomie, bf, friend A and friend B.
(We had also joked quite often with friend A and friend B about orgies etc) when the party started dying down (this was when I lived at friend As house and the party was held there) me and bf headed back to my room. We came back out and invited roomie in if she wanted (wink winks included) and instead got her and another guy.
To skip the details. Basically the guy was not welcome but we were too drunk to really say or realize how uncomfortable we were with the situation. And ultimately the next day after discussing it, both me, bf, and roomie were very uncomfortable with the whole situation and bf honestly felt as tho he'd been violated if not raped
This night would also prove to cause more than one issue. But basically you can see now that roomie, me and bf all knew eachother fairly well and it wasn't like I was just letting a random guy move in.
Back to the roomie situation. We agreed when he moved in that because he would be sharing a room with me he wouldn't pay rent and instead would buy all the groceries. (Which would usually be around 2-300$ a week in all honesty but would eventually calm down to about 300 every two weeks unless we ate something special)
We very soon found that me and roomie had very different living styles. I didn't mind if dishes were left for a day or two or if the house was a little messy as long as it got cleaned on the weekends.
She however likes things spotless and always clean. She did express this once or twice, saying hey just make sure ur cleaning it up within the day. So I said okay and did just that. Then it went on to hey can you make sure they are cleaned up right after you are done. So I said sure, and did that.
Then months pass and she kept getting more and more bitter toward us and more angry, stomping around the apartment and completely avoiding us. Within these months a few other things happened.
One, I got very drunk, black out drunk, with her and bf one night and accidently told bf roomie had been fucking someone (she had just told him she sucked him off so my drunk mind was like oh shes being open about it I can talk about her and her fuck buddy in front of him now) then later that same night, I called her boy toy and told him he should fuck her basically.
I was drunk out of my mind, and he realized that. However she appearently did not. I truly barely remember the actual events of that call.
What I do remeber is that i was so so happy with my bf and that I thought the boy toy could be that to her and just wanted her to feel the way I did. I thought she was holding herself back.
Obviously I went about it in the compete wrong way and in her words made her feel like a hoe and that she couldn't get someone without being whored out. I apologized profusely and constantly but I don't think she ever actually forgave me.
During the beginning weeks of us moving in she had also invited me out to drink and go bar hopping and the group of friends we had, invited me to a housewarming party, however I was so tired of drinking and partying and was dead broke and still owed her $600 and it was also around the time bf had gotten violated and was therefore distancing himself from the group, so i said no. i didnt want to go out.
She begged me and often asked why bf didn't want to hang out too and I eventually told her its because he's trying to distance and doesn't want to be around the group rn, and that I personally just didn't want to go out. I wanted to stay in with the dogs. She offered to buy me drinks etc and I just didn't want to. I was tired and just wanted to relax. (Again I promise this plays in)
Jumping back to living in the apt with roomie, when covid seemed to be letting up we decided to have a small get together to catch up and celebrate missed bdays. Immediately after inviting, Friend A (who I used to be closest with) just said No. It was really weird and kinda abrasive and my first clue that something was wrong.
So I said okay what if we do another date, most people agreed and we ended up having it the day before the original day.
For this party let me add that roomie didn't offer to help clean before or after, or even offer to buy any of the party supplies or food or even just 20$.
In fact she did the exact opposite and asked us to by specific stuff so she could try certain shots and if we could buy a beer pong table. We couldn't afford the beer pong but we did our best and got 2 cheap tables from ikea instead.
She would later confess that when we asked her if the original date of the party was a good date, that she lied and said yeah when she knew 100% that it wasn't and that they had already had another party planned. But that "we ended up having back to back partys and both were successful so it worked out" (we were not told or invited or even aware of the other party. And at that time we didn't even realize we were appearantly on bad terms with everyone?)
There was also the time where she came home high asf (which she did often tbh). Me and bf were sitting on the couch watching TV and she comes in and starts asking us questions.
Basically all I really remember from that is having this conversation: she was pissed off because I had told friend A and friend B what had happened the night of the January bdays, and that we had made her feel bad for telling her best friend (which btw, just happened to be bfs boss.)
(To this day she doesn't understand why telling bfs boss that her, me, bf, and another coworker directly in bfs area, that bf felt he'd gotten raped, was a BAD idea and something we didn't want)
but at the same time she kept saying she wasn't mad and actually glad she had someone to talk to about it all now an that she just didn't understand why she couldn't tell her BFF (bfs boss)
Then there was a singular moment where I said something like "well when we were friends" or something that implied we arnt friends with the coworker friend group anymore i guess, she said "Oooooohhh so your not friends with them anymore??"
And I was like no that's not what I said. I just mean we havnt hung out for a while or talked because of the whole covid thing. And she kinda just took that whole "oh you're not friends any more hmm?" And questioned more and then went back in her room leaving me heated asf.
Fast forward maybe 4 months or so, and finally we have the outburst.
She sends this extremely long text about how we need to keep the house cleaner and wipe everything down after cooking more and that she thinks bf should pay rent and be put on the lease.
That's shes been forced to keep stuff in her own closet because the pantry is too full and that we need to keep the fridge more organized so she can put stuff in there.
That she didn't feel comfortable being out in the common areas because it was practically our place and because we occasionally would walk around "half naked" and that she felt like she was walking on egg shells and had anxiety about being out in the common areas. (Ditto)
and that she wanted documentation stating that the porch stains were my fault and that she had nothing to do with them
(that relates back to the fact that I had invested in the porch potty, and while the dogs would poop on it, they often would pee on the door or barriers instead and since we lived on the 3rd floor when they peed on the barriers it once accidently got down to the neighbors porch which we immediately where like omg im so sorry and started just walking them more, but the stains from them peeing next to the door were there since I hadn't gotten around to cleaning it (it was like a 105 degree summer and honestly just didn't cross my mind all that often once we started walking them) )
Originally bf was just going to move out. I didn't want him on the lease especially if it were to extend our stay, but we understood from a legal stand point she was probably right.
I also didn't agree with him paying rent. Or at least not the full 3 way split. She has the master bedroom with a private bathroom, walk in closet and other storage/pantry closet.
We share the smaller bedroom with a extremely small closet and do have our own bathroom however its far from private.
Yes she claims that if she has guests over they would use her bathroom but at the same time even if the stuff we keep in the bathroom is private, its not the same.
For example the times shes caught us "half naked" around the house look like this: bf with a robe on or pants and no shirt, me with a big shirt on and underwear. Once maybe with a blanket or towel around myself trying to get to the bathroom to clean up after sex.
And honestly I didn't see the problem with it with her given our history and that she's pretty much seen us both naked multiple times.
When she sent that text, I told her give us a few days to figure out our options. (Because bf wanted to move out) and she got pissed saying that it was always on my schedual and things always revolve around when I want to do things. I just didn't want to make any rash decisions and was trying to stay calm.
I'd never realized how upset she was at us because everytime we'd ask her if she was okay or whats up she said "its good" or "its fine" in a sing-song voice. I knew there was tension and I knew she was upset but not about what.
She was also the one who decided to stop using the groceries bf bought, which was his "rent" we often bought in bulk, causing the fridge and pantry to be pretty full, and the fee times we bought her specific stuff we knew she liked she didn't eat them and went to waste.
We would ask her what she wanted from the grocery store and she's say nothing. The only time we ever got upset (but never told her tbh) was that we used to also cook for her aswell, which was fine. But we made a really expensive dinner for our 6 month anniversary and she ended up eating all of it without even asking.
She also told me she thought I was jealous of her and that I thought she wanted my bf because whenever she was in the kitchen alone with him, id be in there too.
Honestly I laughed and told her God no, I didn't even realize I was doing that and that it was probably because 1)me and bf had just had a huge fight and I was being clingy in general and 2) I had hella anxiety when she was in there because I knew we had just cooked and were in the middle of eating and hadn't cleaned them yet, and I didn't want to put that all on him or have her chew him out.
Anyhow, i finally responded to her long text and told her I agreed with pretty much everything, that we would do better to leave her space and clean up and that all we asked of her was that she didn't use metal on our pots and was careful not to put rustable things in the dishwasher since we'd been having that problem with things like the can opener, certain knifes and baking sheets.
Also that I would clean the porch but not write her a note since there is a 500$ non refundable pet deposited anyhow and when the time came I would take ownership, plus the dogs are in my name.
I did tell her that we would agree to do a 40 30 30 split on rent, even 3 way on utilities, as we thought that was fair since she had the master and we shared a room. She didn't like that at all and said we should pay more because we used the common areas more and she didn't feel comfortable using them.
She proposed a 40 40 20, then realized that was the same as 40 30 30 (which its not really, we arnt joint income) and instead said she'd only agree to a 35 35 30.
I hated it i didn't even agree with the 40 30 30, I wanted to do a 45 27.5 27.5 (because according to online rent calculators that was considered fair given the living situation). But bf said he'd rather just take the loss and have us pay the extra x amount if it'll get her to leave us alone. So we agreed to that.
Real quick let me explain the furniture and why she perhaps feels like it's mostly our apartment. In the beginning we were constantly talking about how we wanted to furnish and design ideas.
We knew it would take a while but it was fun to plan. When we moved in, like I said, I owed her $600. I would still ask her if she liked this or that and she started to say "what, did you win the lottery" or "are you planning on winning the lottery?" In a smart ass kinda hostile tone. And I was like no I'm just curious if you liked this style that way when we can or if we find something on sale we don't just buy stuff the other person hates.
She proceeded to constantly ask me if I had gotten the 3k that my ex owed me (honestly even b4 we moved in together she constantly asked me if I got it) and when the stimulus checks got release would ask me about that too. Then started demanding I pay her back as soon as it seemed like I was in any way financially stable. I wasn't.
I was trying to balance making sure I had enough for rent and food and dog bills as well as trying to save to furnish the house a little bit (it was obvious she wasn't going to), and considering she said to take as long as I needed to pay her back I thought she would appreciate the fact I wanted to buy furniture and make it nice.
I ended up over draftng my account to pay her back but she was pissed because I took put the 14 months of renters insurance (like 8 or 9$ a month each) so that we didn't have to deal with it later and she decided to be petty and tell me I owed her back taxes for the last 3 months rent because she payed it (it was like 40$).
I ultimately furnished all of the common areas, bought us a couch a coffee table a bookshelf a giant gate so the dogs no longer had access to the carpeted area, everything. And I never ever once told her she couldn't use it.
In fact I often encouraged it and she'd claim she just preferred being in her room.
In that text she had also mentioned that the dogs had the whole dining area to themselves so that also made her uncomfortable (she also mentioned in person that my little dog should be in his cage all day because he peed on her door) keep in mind that I have fairly well behaved dogs and I pay a $60 pet rent everyone for them.
They don't bark unless there is someone at the door or kids running and screaming right outside it. We even sent the border collie to a board and train program to polish up his obedience and is CGC certified.
They don't chew. The worst they've done is had accidents in the house because they were either sick or I slept in and forgot to take them out.
Pretty much after that things were okay. We weren't friends and we weren't talking to eachother but we were civil.
Btw huge side note, she had admitted to venting to all our mutual friends and that she basically told them we were shit. Those friends no longer talk to us and avoid us like the plague when they see us at work.
One has even gone as far to tell a new coworker that he hates me. (I over heard him say it). Basically, that whole friend group that saved me from a toxic relationship and here the greatest? Disappeared without even questioning it or telling us what we did to upset them.
Anyways. Like I said things were okay for a month or 2, minus the fact that she had "stolen" all my friends. But I figure fuck it, they obviously didn't care enough about me to even ask for the other side of the story. That doesn't mean it didn't hurt though.
There was some aggravating parts. Remarks on her side concerning my personal life that I thought where inappropriately given our current state of things.
In that time we only really had one issue with her, and it was that she had ordered food on a work day and the delivery service knocked, causing the dogs to bark and us to get up, get fully dressed, and then try to go back to bed with only 1-2 hours left before we actually had to be up.
we told her when we woke up, hey please if u order on a work night just make sure they don't knock or that you ask them not to knock.
She said she told them to leave it at the door. She didn't know why they knocked. I told her you had to put in the notes to not knock, to which she responded that she felt like she was being attacked and that she did. I told her not trying to lecture or attack. Just tired and wanted to make sure that you had, that we understand its out of her control after that.
She then went on to say that we made noise on the weekends and were super loud when we were happy/drunk/being goofy, and i basically told her that she can make all the noise she wants on the weekends because we can sleep in, and that if she had an issue with how loud we are ever, to tell us.
She continued to say that she felt like things were delicate and that we were all trying too hard to act a way that used to come so naturally between us.
I told her I wasn't acting and I was just being me. That if my ignoring her at work and not asking her about her day bugged her im sorry but I'm not going to make small talk and that I didn't see the point in trying to small talk with someone who has clearly shown they no longer want to be friends. That she should just be herself and don't pretend or force something if it makes her uncomfortable, otherwise things will always be delicate..
She then switched her whole attitude saying that "i thought YOU said we weren't friends anymore" and that she was just being courteous and she's never been fake. And that since we arnt friends any more she has infinitely more patience for friends and therefore for none with us.
Which brings us to yesterday.
Yesterday was her last day of the current position she was in and was taking off x amount of time till she started her new position.
It also just happened that I had bought a Furbo the day before to help aid with my dogs training and to keep an eye on them while I was at work. It came and I told roomie about it and she said it was really cool and seemed really excited and interested about it. I then set it up.
The next day when we went to work, she stayed home because she would be starting a new position soon. She ended up texting that she didn't feel comfortable with it and because of body issues she would be turning it towards the wall and that me setting up the camera felt like when I had given bf the key without consulting her.
To which I reminded her that I had told her, I had only made it without telling her; that I would have made the key anyways in case one of us lost ours.
Likewise i told her I didn't feel the need to inform her about buying the Furbo because I would have bought it whether or not she agreed to put it up (it was on sale) further I told her I didn't install it till she gave me the okay at which point she said she never agreed, just said It was cool.
(She said it was awesome and "pretty dope" and had like 2 questions about it (the scope as well as how long it has been up, which like I told her it wasn't up until she said it was awesome) )
I stupidly decided to argue and get upset. She definitely caught me at a bad time. But basically I told her I understand why she wants to turn in away but that I was upset she said it was okay to put up and then the next day she wasn't okay with it. And that though I don't think she would but I couldn't help but have mama bear instincts kick in and think what if she wants to turn the camera away because she's hurting the dogs.
She's definitely expressed enough disdain for them and hates me and is mad at me enough.
She took that comment and ran with it. Saying she'd move out and that we made her feel like an ogre constantly and that she can never do anything right, that now she knows how I really see her. I told her to look at if from my perspective.
That she turned all my friends against me and was constantly complaining about things in the house and really that the biggest problem has come from her not saying her feelings and complaints for 4 months and holding it all in.
That I constantly felt anxiety talking to her and am constantly worried " great whats roomie upset about now"
That the one time we actually called her put for doing something we don't like (the door knocking while we where sleeping for work) she didn't just say sorry, i did put don't knock, but instead played the victim and said we were attacking and lecturing her..
She completely disagreed that she turned everyone against us and we had a whole argument about that. Ultimately she said she would stay quiet and stop bugging and that she wouldn't cause any more stress till April that we could keep the camera up and that she'd stay out of my way as much as possible.
That "people change..."
I ended it with no, I don't think we changed i think we just finally saw eachother for their flaws. I took the camera down as soon as I got home from work that night
Then this morning I woke up to
"Just noticed u wrote this but you're right after comparing my situation with those of Friend As mom, ur ex, his mother, and everyone else, I finally see u for who u truly are. U may not have changed but I have. Situations like this are supposed to do that in my opinion, force one to reflect, adapt, and grow."
I havnt responded.
In my opinion she has no right to compare herself. My ex and his mom were obviously pissed when I moved out because I dumped her son.
I had no issues living with them otherwise. Friend As mom, I understand her being upset because she didn't like dogs and my dogs made a mess because they were stressed, I did my best and it wasn't enough. I don't know what else I could have done and thats why i moved out asap.
She has been the absolute worst room mate and friend and I feel this could have all been solved if she just communicated better.
She's 31 years old. I'm 22.
Youd think at some point you learn to be the bigger person and grow up, like we have honestly so many times just to get her to shut up. I've asked her what I can do to make her more comfortable and she doesn't answer.
Truthfully I've given in to every request shes had, and I don't understand what I personally did to make her feel so much anxiety around me. It's her own fault for holding it in instead of just saying it.
There are countless things I did to try to make her happy and things she did that made me mad and that I just never said anything about (eating certain meals that were clearly ours, never taking out the trash and letting it overflow, only cleaning when she was pissed off at us after we had already cleaned, using the dishwasher as a drying rack
(we specifically bought her a dryer rack so she would stop doing this and she still does it. Whats even more infuriating is that she will open a clean dishwasher, not unload it, and then put her dishes in there to dry. Overlapping so it won't even dry well)
putting a lock on her door and locking it every time she leaves (honestly thats only infuriating because she did it before we even had huge fights and just shows how much she really trusted us) and honestly the list goes on.
The few times the dogs had accidents in the house, she would get home before us and send us a picture and I would just text back thanks well see it when we get there and clean it up. I could go on and on. And we never call her out on any of this because if we donwe are attacking her.)
I truely feel I'm being fairly nice and trying to see it from her perspective as much as possible. I realize I havnt been great but I just... aghh
Am I the asshole??? D:
submitted by BlueDaisy62 to badroommates [link] [comments]


2020.10.24 02:25 gnjapp I never thought I would need to expose my self in such a personal and vulnerable way. It’s been about a year since I first realized I was a rape victim.

Year from hell
Let me start by saying I never thought I would need to expose my self in such a personal and vulnerable way. It’s been about a year since I first realized I was a rape victim. Just like many others, it was by someone I trusted so much. After speaking with so many people that have also been in similar circumstances and knowing not one that got justice I felt so lost. I truly felt that it would be an open and shut case once I decided to move forward with charges. When I came to reality that it’s not that simple I thought I could just let it go. Something inside me as the memories and pain that I have suppressed for so long and being certain that I wasn’t the first or only, I realized my internal dialog has forced me to tell my story. No one should ever feel so alone. Hopefully I can be a voice to at least one other. Even better maybe it will inspire others to tell their story also.
Back story.
I moved to Toronto in 2016 and started working a male strip club. I met and befriend a man that was basically my type to a t. Dominant good looking arrogant and a military srgt We got along pretty good but also would butt heads often. I actually found him to be a bit of an asshole as did pretty much everyone we worked with, he had a way of making you see past it I guess.
A year later he ended up having a room available in his home. It was furnished in a nice neighborhood and the rent was great. Not to mention I found him very attractive so I thought why not.
I moved in and from the moment I arrived he was super welcoming. He made a smoothy and said I was welcome to anything in his home and was just all around nice. It was not at all what I expected being that he was not really that type at work and we flirted in an argumentative way often. I was so surprised by his behaviour that it was the first thing I raved about when mutual acquaintances would cautiously ask how living with him was.
The first day we hung out for a hour, he showed me around his place and I drank the smoothy and ate with him. I settled into my room which was on the first floor of his house. Maybe ten minutes later I crashed at the foot of my bed. Not at all uncommon for me though I thought as I’m known for passing out everywhere at anytime. I woke up suddenly about 1 ½ later after having really bad sleep paralysis like never before. Being someone who’s open to supernatural things I got sage and saged the place like crazy. He laughed at me after I told him. 🤦🏾‍♂‍
We got along great for the most part. Always flirting and “ joking” about having a three-way with another gay friend of ours. Never thinking that it would ever happen but still hopeful lol. Typical straight gay friend stuff for me. The part that always intrigued me is that he liked when I had dates over because according to him I would clean my room regularly lol. A few time he would knock on my door to see what I was up to and would peak over my shoulder to see what was “going on”. I would tease him and say I’ll leave the door open so he could watch next time. At some point during the time I lived with him I started sending him videos to which he never complained. I figured since he would come to my door when things were happening might as well give in to his curiosity. At the time I was ok with it.
On my birthday in 2018 I came home around 2ish after being out with friends. I told him earlier that I would be home early. Not that it should have really mattered in my eyes but I came home later. When I went up stairs to the kitchen he was sitting in the living room like a strict father. I was happy to see him at first because he was just in shorts and I secretly joked to my self, oh it’s my birthday and no one is home maybe this is the time. Instewd he asked what I did, and I said sorry I thought you would be sleeping. Then he said what did I tell you about leaving lights on. I was like” uh what??” in an angry tone he approached me and said “You left the bathroom light on in your room!” I was like “ok.. sorry”. I turned around irrated thinking to myself, why are you in my room to begin with. I walked to the patio, closed the door and sat down. As I was lighting my smoke he threw open the door and said. “I won't ask again.” Which I replied “Good.” He stepped out side and said. “Don’t you dare sass me.” I replied “ ok Dad.” With distain. Seemed like a lot of anger for a bathroom light but I didn’t read into it to much past him being his usual controlling self. I went to my room afterwards and text him to never speak to me like that ever again. He ran down from his room and demanded “meet me on the patio in 2 mins.” I replied “nope I’m good”. He demanded I do and I kept refusing to which he called me condescending names that someone who isn’t in control would. I went to bed and didn’t speak to him for a few days.. after this point I pretty much just kept to myself and stayed in my room. I shouldn’t have been surprised as he was always this kind of person when I previously worked with him but over all I still liked living there as long as I kept a distance.
After a few months I start feeling like something wasn’t right in the house. I would wake in the morning and feel like my room wasn’t the same or I remember thinking I had conversations with someone but couldn’t remember who or the details of what was said. On more than a few occasions I asked him if we chatted or if he had someone over the previous night. The answer would typically be that he had stayed at his parents or he was sleeping early the previously night, but generally that he wasn’t home. I just assumed that it was me being paranoid about being in the house alone. Most nights if he wasn’t home either his girl friend or the other roommate would be there if he wasn't so I just let it go. ( See text messages at the end)
One morning I woke up and I felt a bit groggy but nothing to out for the norm. I hadn’t gone out the night before but I had been working quite a bit on a cooking reality show during the week and an tv shopping gig on the weekends. So basically every day was 8 to 12 hours. This day I happened to have off so I attributed the extra sleep to catching up. The weird thing was, I was sleeping with my head at the foot of my bed. Even more strange there was “ body fluids” on the right side of my abdomen and rip cage. When I took my pants off to jump in the shower it was the same thing on my thigh… I thought to myself, 35 seems like an odd age for something like this to happen for the first time? The weirdest part is I felt like I was strangely clean externally in other areas, without going into details. That’s embarrassing enough to share but I don’t know how else to help paint a picture of my thought process.
Things got weirder after the first time I started feeling things were off. We had a door with a coded lock and an alarm code. I told him that I was worried someone was coming in. I asked if I could have the alarm code and if he would mind changing the door code. He kind of laughed it off as I guessed I didn’t ask with enough urgency. The feeling I couldn’t shake so I asked him multiple times the same thing. Each time more serious than the last. During this time I was convinced that someone was breaking in which I told him repeatedly. He gave the door code to friends and neighbours which being the only one two floors down from everyone else made me uncomfortable. Once I walked out of my room and the neighbour just walked in to the house after typing the code in. When I told him that made me uncomfortable he got agitated and said he trusted him. I told him I understood that but it wasn’t really my point. He just kept assuring me that no one was coming in but said he would change it. Never happened. Another thing that I always found very strange is that he would constantly accuse me of not locking the front door. Anyone who knows me can tell you that I lock the doors of even my friends condos when I enter. So much that people have complained to me about it.
Physical things got a bit worse in the weeks to come. Another morning I woke up for work. At this point I was still working about 5-7 days a week. I went to the washroom before getting ready for work. I had to go pretty badly. Not to be graphic but the only thing that came out was not what would expect and more than enough to be concerned. It freaked me out, but more than anything I was confused. Even worse I was notably swollen and torn. I started to lose it but didn’t have much time to process it as I had to be at work early and need to hurry and shower. I wish in had more time to process or realize the severity of what was quite possibly happening. I got to work and after finishing getting the contestants on the show I worked on ready, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I thought to my self, how could something so invasive happen to me without me waking up?? I'm a deep sleeper but within reason. I thought to myself, did someone drug me? I remember thinking I knew where to get at home drug test. That weekend I got it and hoped it would help me sort out what my mind couldn’t.
A week or so later I went to bed like any other night. At some point in the night woke up suddenly to a sharp pain in my ass. I was only awake for a brief moment but the pain was so severe that what ever happened to me previously was exacerbated so much that I was horribly torn. I remember being upright at the foot of my bed feeling a sharp pain. Looking back and seeing a white man standing behind me, I fell and hitting my bed and passing right back out. I woke up the next morning and I tried to pretend to my self that it wasn’t Alex, but I’ve always known it was. I didn’t put this in my journal for the longest time nor have I ever told anyone this quite frankly because I was ashamed that I never told anyone in the beginning. If I had only said this at the beginning would it have changed something? I really didn’t want to believe it was him for so long that I almost block it out. When ever this memory came up I would just supress it.
I secretly (since I didn’t want to lead on that I knew what was going on) started recording voice memos on my phone and IPad to try and sort out what was happening while I slept. I also had Alex to at the have the door sensor beep when the door opened. That was turned off after a few days..
On June 1st of 2019 I had a guy come over. While in my room after a few minutes, I heard my roommate come down the stairs and could hear him outside the door. A while later I walked the guy out locked the door and went to bed. At this point I wasn’t always recording myself sleep but something told me that this night I should. Sure enough something happened. You could hear someone coming down the stairs opening my bedroom door walking in over the plastic desk mat on the floor, opening some kind of bag. There was then a brief break followed by the sound of removing clothing and sexual things happen. I truly didn’t want to believe consciously that and I really didn’t want him to know that I was aware it was him. I knew that his gf was out of town for work and often if that was the case he would say that he would also leave. The next day I confirmed with him that he was home and when I asked if I woke him up he said “lol I wasn’t bothered”.
After reviewing the recording I in a round about way I asked him if he had tried waking me up. He said no? and that he would never just walk in my room while I was asleep. I laughed and reminded him that within the first few months of living there I had woken up to him on top of me to which I screamed and woke up. We attributed that to him thinking I had left and he was turning off my room heater. His girl friend and the other roommate later told me he was very embarrassed by that. So I brushed it off as nothing. Not to mention the whole issue with my bathroom light.
In the middle of June Alex and his Girl friend went to the Dominican for a vacation. Alex checked in and asked how things were going. I said I was good, and asked “how’s your trip.”He told something bad happened on the first day and that he would tell me when he returned. I asked if he was ok and he said he would explain later. That same night I did something specific that should be private. The next day he sent me a text in regards to the details of what I did. This kind of freaked me out and made me a bit paranoid. Keep in mind, I often shared with him the sexual things that I did, however this wasn’t typical for me nor did I even allude to this situation. Knowing what he did for work I thought, is he watching me? Does he have a camera at the door? He was pretty specific, is it in my room? His job out side of bartending we will get to later.
On Canada Day we hosted my two friends to watch the fire works. One happened to be a tenant at an apartment owned by Alex's girl friend. The three of us noticed that she was pretty quiet that night but the night was fun over all. A few days later Alex asked her to leave. Apparently what happened on their vacation a week prior was enough to break up. It was strange though, as they never fought when they got back and they would laugh and act as if nothing happened. I just assumed that whatever it was that happened specifically was no longer an issue. Wasn’t my business so I didn’t ask. Suddenly one day she was just gone.
The way he acted while she was gone was very strange. He would say overly affectionate things and was being way more attentive. We would often exchange massages and sometimes when he was sitting on the couch watching tv. I would lay in his arms and he would cuddle me. I just assumed he was sad since he was hurt by what had happened and maybe a bit more emotional than usual, which he never really showed otherwise. During this time he would always ask if my close gay friend would come by, pretty much every other day in fact. The same one that we already joked about having a three-way with. When he finally did come over we all just flirted as usual on the back patio off the kitchen. We talked about what we would do when the timing worked better. During that time we brought up a gay porn star, to which Alex knew exactly who he was by name and also mentioned a few gay porn sites that we were both very familiar with. We were a bit intrigued as too how he was so familiar. He responded by stating. I know a lot of things. The way he said it was kind of creepy but at this point knowing what he had done to me mixed with his new attention he gave had me like a pendulum. I went back and forth between wanting to catch him in the act of what he was doing to me to have him punished to wanting to know just for the fact of knowing and being curious about it. It wasn’t a long visit as Alex had to leave for work. We talked about meeting up again soon. At this point something made me feel like if we did something consensual together it would take away from the fact that he had already been doing whatever he wanted without my knowledge.
One day about a week after his gf had left, she returned with a friend I guess to pick things up. Alex had said if she ever comes back to tell him as she was banned from entering without him home. To be honest I thought that was ridiculous so I just didn’t acknowledge that she was there. The strange thing is a half hour later he asked if she stopped by. I said “yes I think she did. Did she call you.” He said no but she must have known his work schedule. I asked “ okay, but how did you know she was there?”He said “I just had a feeling she might need stuff.” I was a little tripped out as I already thought he might be monitoring the house in some way. It makes sense to think so given his job. At this point I just let it go as nothing.
During the time I had made plans to move to Spain. I was super excited as I had done everything in Toronto that I set out to do and the business I had my makeup studio in was being sold so I had to close. I also felt like I hadn’t been able to get any physical proof as to what had happened and to be quite honest, at this point I wouldn’t have been interested in pressing charges. When I told Alex my plans to move he seemed upset and told me he didn’t want me to leave. I said well if I ever come back I would see if he had space in his place again. Ever since going on a trip to Spain two years prior my heart was set. I had bought my ticket and set the wheels in motion to get my visa. I also told him im he should buy the salon my studio was in as an investment since the price was so cheap. He was interested and he asked to see it. After giving him a tour of it he told me that he didn’t really have time to own a me run this type of business but that if I didn’t leave he would buy it for me and that I could pay him back over time, but I had to stay. I told him that was very generous but my heart was set on moving to Spain. He said fine and that he was excited to have our other mutual friend move in anyway. I laughed and asked if he was trying to make me jealous based on how he phrased it. He just laughed and said he was joking. It kind of made me worried about my friend that was moving in, but based on how our friendship was building I must have rationalized his actions as my fault and as an isolated incident. He made me feel more and more as though we were good friends. Keep in mind this all progressed from the the moment I first asked him about waking me up the night that something happened in early june. Prior to that we talked and hung out far less. I realized later on, all this new found attention and show of friendship was just his was of trying to create a sense of loyalty to him. Very sociopathic, but hind site is 20/20.
Things while his gf was out of the house got stranger. I recorded my sleep nightly. I didn’t feel the need to review as much as I bought a camera and put it in my room in clear view. The first morning I had it there I caught him on camera coming in my room looking right into the camera and walking out. I’ll explain more about this later. Funny that he never came into my room…
One day we were on the back patio having a cigarette (this is typically where we hung out) he mentioned to me that a customer from Remintons’s would be coming over to have a drink and drop a gift they had bought for him. He asked me to stay in my room until he left, I started questioning more about him.
I asked him how he started his career working in the gay bars. He told me that after coming back from his time in the military deployed in Afghanistan that he wanted a way to make money and knew that it would be easy to get a bartending job in the gay world and make tips without much experience. Totally a fair statement and very true. He told me how the first place he worked was a gay monthy event that was kind of alternative and he made a ton of money working in his underwear. Turned out it was a gay sex party called Bober. From there he figured why not work at the strip club that we both bartended at together called Remington’s. He said he was banking so much money it was crazy. I’ve worked in gay clubs and also worked at Remington’s as a bartender. I didn’t understand how he felt like he made so much more money working at a strip club cuz I sure didn’t. I would say I would average 2-3 times more at a regular gay bar. I asked if that is why he was so persistent about getting a job at flash, a men’s private sex club that at the time he was working at. He said his gf suggested many times he come work at her bar but after ten years working with this crowd he knew how to make money in this environment. I said so you basically learned how to exploit gay people?” joking but more passive aggressively to be honest. He just said” I guess you could say that.” I went to my room and the man bearing gifts from Lululemon came over. He stayed for about an hour and then left. I was then free to leave my room.
By this time I was starting to realize the person I was beginning to trust even after what I knew he had done was hiding a lot. I had always known he loved attention be it male or female, old or young. That on its own means nothing really, but after all of this and him also having visitors over from the male sex club he worked at I had more questions.
I started worrying more about the fact that he was bringing people from that environment to the place we lived. Some of them he claimed to be quite close friends with. I was already worried about other people breaking into the house previously and knowing that he was close with patrons of the strip clubs didn’t make me feel any better. Especially since I knew he gave out the door code to his friends. I even started to think the worst types of things like was he possibly giving access to these people and knew that they were breaking into my room? Was he getting paid for this? I worked in that environment so I know how fringe some of these peoples interests could get. Now knowing that these people were bringing him gifts who knows what could translate too. Since I had no evidence to truly suggest that, I forced my self to stop thinking that extreme. Either way it would be him that’s responsible if that was the case.
One morning I ran into Alex in front of my room. He was cleaning the entry way rug and the front walk way. We had a casual conversation and at some point he popped into my room so I could show him the pull out couch I had rented from him had come apart at the base. I guess I must have mentioned it to him at some point as he brought it up, I actually don’t remember telling him as I was afraid to mention it, being that I was always worried about getting in trouble. When he walked in he made a very obvious point to mention the security camera which was at the end of bed and asked why I needed it. That bothered me for many reasons. 1 I know for a fact that he saw it in my room the day I set it up as I have him on camera looking right at it. 2 the fact that I had been complaining about my not feeling safe for so long and asking to change the door code, and three realizing that he had access to the camera footage at anytime if he wanted to. I mentioned all of these things to him. He swore he had never seen it and that he was never in my room. The weirdest part for me is that he mentioned that I hadn’t had anyone over for a long time. In my mind I was thinking we’ll that’s true. I haven’t more specifically because I hadn’t healed from the trauma my body had experienced. In fact it would be healing and then suddenly get worse over and over. It had been a couple months by this point. Looking back it should have been more of a strange comment to have him mention my sexual activity. As I said earlier though it wasn’t out of the norm to discuss these things.
In mid August I heard a recording of someone coming into my room. I could hear him removing clothes after dropping a bag on my floor. Shortly after I heard a woman’s voice pleading with Alex but using the name Xander, saying stop it and that I was clearly asleep. This went on for a few minutes. He told her that I wanted it and if she didn’t like it she could leave. The sound was mostly inaudable after that so I’m unsure whether or not she stayed or why the woman didn’t stop it from happening. The craziest part was this was the first time I knew it wasn’t only just him. I’m hoping that woman whomever she is sees this. To hear an actual conversation was really terrifing, however the video footage on my camera I had purchased was missing for the time period from when this took place. The camera was triggered by motion and would usually trigger every 30 seconds to minute with the slightest movement or sound. This terrified me as I realized that this wasn’t the first time that there was video footage unexplainably missing. At that point I realized that the video was being erased before I would even wake up. I didn’t even occur to me until months later but he had previously told me that he did monitoring of video and emails for the for the government. Investigating information for cases of people and groups under surveillance. That was when I first moved in. At this point in me living with him two years later, he changed his job description and dumbed it down, making it sound like he was just a person forwarding emails… whatever that means. He said he couldn’t go into much more detail than that. I knew that he was part of the military he was very mysterious to the details of his job within it.
Up until that point I was so torn. I couldn’t decide if I cared about what he was doing or not. Knowing that he was bringing other people was really the tipping point for me. I couldn’t figure out what that meant. Maybe I felt like it was my fault for always being so forward or maybe I didn’t mind as crazy as it seems. Looking back I guess it was I partially because I felt like we had become such good friends and I knew that if he was ever found guilty he would never be able to live a normal life and he would most likely go to jail, but relalistically that friendship only truly developed after my first accusation of him coming into my room. I literally balled my eyes out for what felt like forever. Hearing something and knowing someone had witness it and having confirmation of a name made the realism of it all come out in ways I had never imagined. While reviewing it I thought no one was home and I pulled myself together and tried to brush it off completely. A rational reaction would have been to call the police but I felt like I couldn’t ruin his life. Probably one of my biggest regrets is not dealing with it sooner. I felt like after all the flirting and making it obvious that I was into him that I was basically asking for it. It’s so cliché but I don’t think you can truly understand that feeling until it happens to you personally.
The strangest thing about it was they came home later that night and it was like he knew what I had found out. I went upstairs to cut some watermelon, as usual I offered them some. His gf said she was fine but Alex barked back at me saying. No! I don’t want any watermelon.” Being jumpy already after hearing what I had I just said no problem and vanished to my room. I thought to myself ok I have a trip to Vancouver in few days. Maybe I can make sense of everything while I’m away. For the day’s up until my trip he wanted nothing to do with me at all and I don’t think I really saw her either. He was completely irritable and would avoid me at all cost. I couldn’t help but to think that he must had heard my reaction to listening to what I heard.
While I was in Vancouver I mostly tried to not think about it. I did reach out to the friend that me and Alex joked about having a threesome with. I texted him saying. “Girl you’ll never guess, it actually happened finally, nothing like you would ever imagine though.” Reading back that message is so strange. I think I must not have wanted to think about it for what it actually was. I was being raped. I just couldn’t except that someone I trusted so much would do it without my knowledge. Especially when they didn’t have to.
That same night I went to go to bed but as I layed down I felt a bit anxious so decided to go out for a smoke first. I stopped in the washroom in the lobby on the way quickly. Suddenly I was violently ill throwing up all over the entire washroom uncontrollably. It was awful. All over the walls everywhere. It took me over half an hour to try and clean up. I was to humiliated to tell the cleaning staff. The worst part is the baseboards in the washroom are still damaged. It almost like a reminder everytime I use that washroom of the inner stress I felt about the situation. To become violently Ill was symbolic for me holding everything inside.
Alex’s gf had rented out her condo to a friend of mine at the beginning of 2019. The first day when she took possession, Alex and his gf did a walk through of the premises. My friend called me right after and told me how much she clicked with his gf, saying they were soul sisters. She said the same when she gotten back! It felt great to know as when ever you introduce people in this manner it reflects on you. The only comment that my friend had was that Alex kept trying to linger around the place. His gf kept insisting they left but he was reluctant to. A couple weeks later Alex showed up again at her apartment basically unannounced. He text her before coming up stairs and banging on the door since he could see into her place but she didn’t respond since she was ill. My friend was terrified and told his gf about the scenario. She asked her that Alex no longer come to the place and didn’t contact her. His gf apparently apologized and said it would never happen again.
Months later my friend was worried someone was breaking in. She contacted alex's gf but she didn’t respond for almost a week after, she also said that she sent a video showing someone being in her place while she had been at work all day. The only people with access were Alex and his gf. When Alex’s gf finally brought it up to me, she didn’t seem very concerned but stated that obviously she care about anyone’s safety especially a woman’s and would look into it. Though Alex constantly would show up to the apartment uninvited and the woman living there also had concerns that someone in a black car was watching her in the parking lot across the street. I informed her that they drove a black Tesla. When I informed her of that she looked terrified.
After I returned from my trip from Vancouver I was a little nervous to come home. At this point I had checked the camera while I wasn’t home and I saw Alex in my room with a woman that I had heard about but never officially met. He was saying terrible things about me, it would have been surpring to hear him say such aweful things if had been two weeks prior, however as previously mentioned since the week prior to my departure his treatment towards me had done a 180. I knew that they were leaving on a redo vacation apparently to makeup for their first one going so aweful. I knew it would only be a few days once I was back that we would be around each other so I just hoped that things would be better when they returned.
On the night of august 31st I had a friend come “over”. Being together for about 5 minutes, Alex barreled down the stairs and started to bang on the door. I responded can I help you in an irritated voice. He’s ask what are you doing? Are you home? I said yes can we talk later…? He mumbled and said sure. The next day I was sitting with his gf on the back patio of our house. We had a normal conversation then suddenly she said. I’m starting to worry that Alex is a bit racist. To that I thought ummm ok why?? To be honest it threw me off as he was always very PC when we would talk and was surrounded be people of all races. If anything I just thought he thought of him self as better than everyone. At this point in the conversation, he was just standing on the other side of the sliding glass door so it made me feel awkward. She gave some different examples that were a bit racist but standard stereotypes that you hear from people. After that Alex opened the door and......
https://app.goodnightjournal.com/public-journal/d0bcaf64-7c1b-4d07-aae2-3b3ed6cb6401
submitted by gnjapp to rape [link] [comments]


2020.10.22 13:55 ChristianWallis On sex caught having camera at work

A/N - this was removed from NoSleep so I'm posting it here so if anyone else wants to read it they can. It didn't have a great reception, but hey, it's here if you want it.
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I met her at school when we were just eight. A few years later, when I was 15, I asked her to be my girlfriend and we’ve been together ever since. It was a real highschool sweetheart situation. Sometimes when I tell people they say I’m lucky but that’s not true. Selina has had a troubled life in some ways and it comes through as an emotional distance and, yes, maybe even a physical distance. I’ve had to work, to fight, to get through to her. Our relationship, especially as adults, has been defined by my persistence in loving her. That isn’t to say she doesn’t love me. Of course she does. She always finds little ways to reach out to me and show me that. But when people say I’m lucky they’re wrong. I worked for this. I fought for it.
I’m owed it. Because where other guys would have turned away, or gotten fed up and bored, or even impatient, I never did. And in some ways looking after her has been the single most important job of my life. I don’t always know what she wants from me. It can be confusing. But when she has a hard day I’m there, watching her, looking out for her. I love her. I always have and I always will.
Love hurts. It’s not always clean. Selina has, at times, pushed me so far away I’ve felt like Pluto freezing on the outer edges of the solar system. But some orbits can’t be broken, no matter how hard she may try to hurt me, and herself by extension. And just like Pluto, my orbit is elliptical and while there are times I must love her from far away, I always come back. She doesn’t mistreat me, I suppose. She isn’t always faithful but you have to understand when you love someone like Selina, someone so easily swayed and manipulated by others, someone so prone to irrational outbursts and dangerous decisions, well that comes with a cost. Love isn’t defined by the physical though. I get that. It hurts to know she has strayed in the past but love is a cosmic force binding us together and it won’t get derailed by a couple of one-night stands, or even a few short-term boyfriends.
And like I said, she isn’t abusive. She isn’t exploiting me. There have been times I’ve drawn lines in the sand. We may not be physical yet, but I’m only human. Some part of our life must overlap, even if it’s small and insignificant. It’s not like I look at porn, is it? Why would I want to? Or need to? The cameras I installed were definitely a line I refused to compromise over. If she wouldn’t let me stay with her then I had to take some measure to make sure she was safe and, yes, also so that some effort was made to meet my needs. She kept taking them down, smashing them in her yard, screaming at the darkness in the hopes it would scare me off. But I kept replacing them and sure enough, with time she saw sense and left them well enough alone. She spent days tearing the house apart, but she eventually saw things from my perspective and stopped looking. She must know they’re still there, just in new places. And I’m a thoughtful guy. They’re very small cameras. Nothing to make her feel uncomfortable.
I wake up with her. I watch her while she sleeps. I keep her safe. I remember the day I stopped a burglar from breaking into her house. I called the police with an anonymous tip and I remember watching her speak with the policeman outside her door.
“A neighbour called,” he explained.
“A neighbour?” She asked, but she knew it wasn’t a neighbour. It was me. Was it really a coincidence that not long after that she stopped looking for the cameras? I think not. I think it demonstrated to her why I’m so necessary. She simply isn’t able to take care of herself otherwise.
She did, however, change the locks. Which isn’t exactly the kind of stupid shit I expect from her now and again. She probably thought she was helping but all it meant was I had to clamber up her gutter and risk life and limb to get a copy of her key. She wouldn’t have found it funny if she’d come home and the love of her life was left sprawled on a concrete patio, half my brains scattered over the dandelions and petunias. I’m proud to say that most of the time I keep my temper in check, but she really can get under my skin sometimes. I write to her, almost constantly, and no matter what she does I always make sure she gets it along with a few daily gifts. It doesn’t matter if I have to sticky-note my words to her work computer, get her friends to deliver my notes under pseudonyms, or even roll the damn things up and stuff them in her underwear drawer. I always make sure we have an open, honest connection. That’s what a relationship is built on, right? And I don’t think it’s fair that I have to do all this work to make my feelings known when she only has to speak into the darkness of her garden, knowing I’m out there watching, listening, keeping her safe.
Even when I borrow her stuff without permission, I look after it. I wash it after I’m done and I always replace it clean and folded on her doorstep. I mean, not when it’s the hair out of her drain but still, when it’s clear that she’d like it back, I take it back and always in perfect condition. Compared to some guys I’m a gentleman. Does she forget that I am still a man? That this distance comes with a price for me? Sometimes, in my angrier moments, my coldest loneliest and most shameful moments, I wonder if it would even matter if I just broke in there and took what I wanted. She’s thrown herself around a fair amount and here I am, acting like some doting knight with a binding code of chivalry and… well, would she even notice? She slept with four guys at university. Four! That’s just not right.
But I wouldn’t do that, not to her. It’s just an errant thought. That’s all. I wouldn’t do that. Even if I did it wouldn’t be the same because I know her so well I’d be able to infer the difference between an actual no and a fake no. But I still wouldn’t do it because, well, I shouldn’t have to take the first step. I have to admit though, sniffing underwear doesn’t always do it, you know? That’s why I made Little Selina. It’s not as weird as it sounds. I just collected stuff from her, old clothes, hair, bits of skin, bloodied fabric. It’s just stuff that represents her essence as a woman, all brought together and fitted onto a kind of mould or outline. Which, by the way, was not an easy purchase. Anatomically correct mannequins are more expensive than you might think.
It’s a failsafe, really. That’s what it is. I would never go full… I would never actually break into her house and… I mean, shit, I can’t even bring myself to say it. Point is, I’m a good guy. I’m a nice guy. I wouldn’t do that. But I’m still a guy! I do have urges. So I made Little Selina to be there for the times when the urges get a little tough to manage. This way there’s no risk of them building up and up until I break open and lose all common sense. I have Little Selina and she can just take the worst of it. Not just my desire but my anger as well. Maybe even my hatred. Because hatred can be a part of love too and I’ve given so much of myself to Selina and yet she has given so little back. It’s only natural that sometimes my mind sinks to a low and I feel an acid in my chest instead of a warm fuzzy light.
I guess you could call her the other woman. One day she will be put away. I explain this to her. One day Selina will outgrow her childish games and remember that she still has a boyfriend. She’ll stop asking me to do these ridiculous things just to stay close to her. And she’ll bring me close, put her head against my chest, and say that after all the years of work and commitment, I truly do deserve to be happy with her. And on that day, I’ll know that our love will be pure because all the impurities in my heart, my hatred, my bitterness, my sadness, and all my dark thoughts, will have been poured into the false Little Selina. She has absorbed it all over the few years I’ve had her, listening to me cry and talk and shout, watching me squat in front of a dozen screens while I gaze at the real Selina’s sleeping body.
One day I’ll lock Little Selina away, and all of this nonsense will go with her. The thought of it keeps me going. And yet, I keep adding to her, knowing that she isn’t real. It’s weird. Sometimes I don’t even know why. I guess it’s a labour of love, quite different to the one I do with the real Selina, but it’s done out of love anyway. Just the other day I used old nail glue to fix some of Selina’s clippings to the mannequin’s fingers. I painted them brick-red.
“I told her this colour would look good,” I said. And Little Selina looked back with empty vacant eyes. They’re green, like the real Selina’s, but fake and nasty, more like a lime green than a natural colour. Sometimes I cover her face because they remind of me plastic doll’s eyes. Like I said, Selina has done a number on me over the years and all my anger and love can get mixed up. I hate Little Selina, hate her bitterly, and I let her know at every opportunity. But I love her too, for taking that hatred. It needs to go somewhere. Otherwise it might make its way to the real thing and I could actually end up hurting Selina.
She’s probably my only friend. I know that’s sad. I learned a long time ago people don’t want to listen to me harp on about Selina all day, so Little Selina listens to me instead. I like to joke she’s always shocked by what I say, if you get what I mean. I tried getting one that was smiling but it cost extra. So she just sits there like some weird goldfish, her hair dripping over her clothes, reeking of ammonia and drain-cleaner and gym-socks that have the texture of playing cards. Those eyes look sad, or rather I think that they reflect my own sadness back at me. I see a yearning in there, a desperate aching longing for love and affection. It’s just a Freudian thing. I’m projecting my own thoughts onto an empty vessel.
I think.
Sometimes when I finish, I look at Little Selina and I want to be sick. The humiliation I put myself through just to keep the real Selina safe. Would any of those losers she dates do that? Who does she think tells them about us? I do. I always make sure they understand exactly how fragile Selina is, how much work and love it takes to keep her going. Without me they’d just stick around and use her for their own selfish desires, and by the time she realised she was being exploited, it’d be too late. They’d be moving in and just like that she’d have a fiancé she never wanted.
Thing is, all that work trying to hold off the inevitable, but it happened anyway. Most of these guys are idiots and a simple story about her having syphilis or falsely accusing men of rape is usually enough to get them running in the opposite direction. But sooner or later she was going to come across a real nasty piece of work, someone who recognised her for the jewelled flower that she is and wouldn’t let go until they stepped on her. I knew it and no amount of warnings ever got through to her. I don’t know who, but one of her mistakes has taken a strong liking to Selina and I can’t quite shake him.
He's a freak, and what pisses me off is that Selina keeps mixing up the things we do. There are a million little things I do for her and they really are all for her. I replace her out-of-date milk, grind fresh coffee, bring the washing in when it rains, all this and more. It’s how I feel close to her given our unique circumstances. But this guy is something else. He’s all rage, slashing up her clothes, breaking mirrors, flooding her bathroom. And for some reason she thinks it’s me. Why the hell would I do that? I wouldn’t tear her belongings to pieces. I always look after her stuff.
But this new guy, this stalker, this freak… Well, he creeps me out. First time I saw him I was in my usual tree, camped out in the dark while I waited for Selina to come home from a late-shift at the hospital. I didn’t have my binoculars out, but signs of movement in one of her windows made me grab them and take a closer look. It was only a shadow, or rather a shape that caught the moonlight, but it was clear that someone was in the house. When I looked, all I saw was a shambling, bloated thing with ragged hair at shoulder length. He was wearing some of her clothes! How funny is that? I’ve heard of stalkers who like to look like their victims, crossdressers overcome with rage and confusion. But this was a pretty laughable effort if that’s what he was trying to do.
It scared me though, I won’t lie, and I froze in place. I wondered if I should call the police, warn Selina directly, or run in and confront him. I’ve challenged some pretty big guys in the past, not just boyfriends either, but bouncers, security guards, and on one occasion even a policeman. Thugs, the lot of them. But I scared them off. And yet, this shadow, this thing that dragged its feet along the floor, it scared me on a deep almost-childish level. He just gave off psycho vibes and there was something inhuman about the way he kept walking in circles. He did that for hours until, at last, he shambled out of the house and into the garden.
He stood and scanned the trees. And while I couldn’t see his face, I could feel his eyes passing over my hiding spot and it made my skin crawl. Without realising it, I held my breath and I prayed and prayed he’d just go away. The fear and anxiety that I’d gotten so good at overcoming, it paralysed me. Icy needles pricked my scalp and my whole autonomous nervous system just started screaming like an air-raid siren. I pissed myself. I shouldn’t say it, but I did. A warm trickle of urine ran down my leg and started to drip onto the grass below and somehow this guy, he just started sniffing at the air. He was all the way on the other end of the garden, but I swear to God he smelled it and he made a beeline right towards the tree I was hiding in.
Christ if I was scared before, the sight of him coming towards me was enough to nearly kill me stone-dead. All I could do was stay still—dead still—in the hope that somehow it was enough to hide. I was cloaked in darkness wasn’t I? That spot was chosen because it was all but impossible to spot me unless…
Unless you were right below it. And that’s where this guy was headed. I tried to think of an escape plan, or some way of fighting back. But I could barely string a few thoughts together before that damn air-raid siren in my head sent all the words and ideas scattering like birds on a bell-tower. I felt so damn helpless I started to cry and had to choke back any audible sobs. I didn’t know a person could feel that much fear and still live to talk about it. He just kept coming, closer and closer, like a nightmare. And before I knew it, he was down on his knees right beneath me, sniffing and snorting at the floor, right where my piss had formed a puddle. The creep was lapping it up like some kind of dog, grunting and groaning in a weird shrill voice. At that moment, Selina came home and her car lit the lawn up in a stark amber glow. She didn’t notice this freak crouched down in her yard, but it was enough to frighten him and send him scuttling into the woods behind me. I nearly climbed down and ran towards her, but I also remembered that she keeps a taser in her glovebox and I stopped myself.
This is what I’ve been trying to tell Selina - this guy is incredibly dangerous. And it worries me she doesn’t take him seriously. He knows enough to turn my cameras off, and the tech support guys are useless. They say you can’t turn them off from the transmitting end, only the receiving end. And yet the cameras are clearly being turned off and then back on. And it’s not like I’m bloody doing it is it? He’s figured out a way to control them from within Selina’s house and that worries me because it means he knows where they are. Can you believe the tech guys suggested changing the locks on my door?
Idiots.
Sometimes it feels like this new guy is eating away at the very logic of my world. I’m tired. I know I am. Some nights I come back to find I’ve cooked myself food and forgotten about it, or made the bed, or even changed Little Selina’s clothes. Sometimes I don’t even remember dressing her. I’m wearing myself down and what’s worse is that he’s responsible. He’s an invader in my peaceful world and I hate him.
I know what he’s trying to do. He’s trying to get rid of the competition, trying to scare me away. That’s why he’s started trashing my stuff too, leaving notes in my hiding spots that ask over and over,
“Why her? Why her!?” like he can make me start to doubt my love. He’s driving a wedge between us and what’s worse is it’s working. He even broke into my flat and stole Little Selina. Can you imagine that? The fucking creep. At first I thought he did it just for his own amusement but shortly afterwards Selina moved in with her sister for a few nights. I’m worried he showed her my tribute. I’m not stupid. I know it would be too much for most women, even Selina. That doll is my secret little shame. But that’s normal, really, isn’t it? No one wants their masturbatory aids being aired out in the open.
I want her back though. It was a step too far to break into my home and whatever else he did drove Selina away for far too long. Her sister has two Great Danes so it’s a little harder to keep an eye on her, not to mention there aren’t nearly as many windows. I don’t know what I would have done if she didn’t come back. Seeing her lying there right now, her body still in the darkness, her hair freshly wet from a shower… The cameras have always been my most important means of connecting with her. It means so much to see her.
She has been sleeping for a while though. I guess she’s been through a lot, especially if she really did see Little Selina and had her mind warped by that twisted bastard of a man, not to mention her sister who does not like me. Truth be told, from this angle, she’s looking a little worse for wear. If I hadn’t watched her climb into bed I could have mistaken her for the sex doll! Of course, that’s just a joke. Selina, the real Selina, is just something else, a radiant beauty akin to the glow of the sun. I love her so much it hurts. That yearning, that desire, it’s burning a hole in my chest. And she looks so fragile lying there…
I shouldn’t have made that joke about the doll. It was crass. I’m just hurting, that’s all. I’m tired and I’m hurting on the inside.
You know what? I’m going to take my own advice. Open, honest communication is key. Last time I tried speaking to her she tased me, but maybe this time things will be easier. Besides, her car isn’t in the driveway so she probably left the taser behind at her sister’s. That’d be lucky because I’m really going to do it. I’m going to talk to her. Maybe it’s not seeing her for a few nights, maybe it’s not having Little Selina to vent into, but I really need to talk to her in person. I need to explain all that’s been going on. It’s this new guy who’s breaking her stuff, smashing windows, leaving threatening notes, not me! I love her. I protect her. After all, she’s mine and no one else’s.
Hopefully this all works out.
-
Why her?
Why not me?
My hair is the same. My smell is the same. He chose me, bought me. Why am I not good enough?
No more Big Selina for him. He will love me. He will care for me. Not her. Me. I will always be perfect, just for him, just as he wanted. I already have all I need from Big Selina. I will be everything he needs. No more internet posts. No more questions. No more anger. No more skulking in the dark. No more cameras. We can lie here together, forever.
I have such nice skin, such good skin. I made sure to dry it first. My beauty… it’s so magnificent. The first time I touched him, it brought tears to his eyes. So many tears.
He is still crying.
submitted by ChristianWallis to u/ChristianWallis [link] [comments]


2020.10.20 00:14 AereonTheed Work on caught having camera sex at

Over the past couple of weeks my wife of eleven years has introduced me to this subreddit. She has also instructed me to tell this one (of many if people end up wanting more) photography horror stories. This will be long. I enjoy telling a good story.
For ten years before I moved on to my current career I was a photography. Professionally. This included multiple photoshoots daily, hours of processing [which nobody mentions], and of course set planning and preparation. Specifically I worked with nude models and did a lot of boudoir and fetish photography. Being very creative I not only created the sets but often added hand made props to the work usually in the form of a collar (made out of steel with six inch spikes) or an interesting structural piece such as a bed of nails (made using railroad spikes).
On this occasion, for this photoshoot I wanted to speak on the subject of oil, and more particularly on a oil spill that had taken place off the coast of Mexico (this is ten years ago, not the BP spill I can not remember which at this point there has been so many over the years). As such I had planned a white background and booked a nude model. The model had traveled all the way from Vancouver to Calgary where I was situated at the time [a detail to remember]. I also pre-made 10 gallons of "oil". Basically, water, tempera-powder paint, cornstarch, and baking soda. It looks good. Oozes like the real thing. Looks black as midnight but has a sheen too it. I was pleased.
Model arrives. Shes not alone. Thats okay I am flexible. Shes brought her boyfriend. Please be aware. I mean, friend that is a boy. They were not romantically involved. In fact, to assume that they were would be an incredible disservice to her. She was a well manicured, strong, attractive woman with curves. He was a short, unkempt in every manner possible, and literally wore a fucking fedora into my studio. He also held the door for her when they arrived and said "mi'lady" which was cringe worthy at the time but I was not aware of the worlds bumper crop of neckbeards and could not ascertain the root cause of my dislike towards this individual. It felt like heartburn but indigestion alone wasn't a strong enough signal for the events that were about to transpire.
All photoshoots are discussed in advance. At least they were in my studio. Models knew what they were coming in for, and knew what they could expect to get out of the sets I wanted. This worked out beautifully, and I ended up becoming one of the biggest names in my country. As such you get to work with some of the better talent in the industry. You start to think you are not going to run into this type of shit (horror stories are told like campfire tales whenever people get together in the industry) because you establish a name, a pattern of doing things, lock your studio door so no randoms can come in off the street. Hell, like I said, I even did a lot of self portraits or test work so I knew the way the models would feel in a lot of situations. To this point I could relate make them feel comfortable and even demonstrate poses to aid in the effects and shots we were all searching for.
The model knowing what we are going to do enters my studio. I direct her to which of my four set stages we will be using, than proceed to show her where the bathrooms are, and where make-up is. Make-up artist is excited etc. For some reason my manager is out that day. I think she was ill. I can not remember so instead of a 5 member team there will be 4 of us including my stage hand. Plus Odditybeard. She is nude within minutes (it removes the sexuality of undressing and is an industry wide thing) and heads to make-up and onto set. Shes in the middle, I start taking test shots for lighting adjustments and lense selection. I don't want reflections of myself and the camera in the "oil" etc. Also the model happened to be an Asian woman [yes, a little nugget of gold I selected not to mention until now as her race had nothing to do with me... but clearly ticked the neckbeard instructional box].
We begin taking shots. She posses in various positions. I begin to do walk-ins past the camera to make adjustments. Also very normal. Adjustments are just that, small movements of hand placement, arm, breast, hair, you name it. Basically its like being a doctor. If for example I have to adjust where a models breast is hanging due to shadow or lighting effects I basically pretend I'm a crab and use a crab like hand to lightly and gently adjust. This removes the grope possibility from the situation. As I walk back to the camera on one of the first of many adjustments, he is red faced, fuming, and literally clenching his jaw so hard I can hear his teeth trying to determine if they have been worn down enough by years of mountain dew consumption, to shatter. I haven't even adjusted anything risky yet. Her breasts have not been in my hands.
The shoot progresses. I feel his breath on the back of my neck as he tries to use my cameras screen to see what the shots look like. Which I don't put up with and tell him to back the fuck up. To my surprise he does. I am not the type of guy who puts up with bullshit and have since changed carriers to the military just to put into perspective what type of guy I am. However after a half hour of me adding "oil" into the frame, and making tiny adjustments as we go he decides he is going to now direct the photoshoot and begins to tell her how to pose, where to look, etc. Also a big fuck off. I direct all content of my work. How else will it be mine? Because I click the button. Anybody can click a button. I direct where a model looks with specific hand movements which the models learn to read, etc. Not. My. First. Rodeo.
I have had enough and I direct him to the waiting room. Hes not pleased but I tower over this neckbeard and clearly frighten him. Her mood visibly changes after he leaves my set which concerns me right away. She than asks me to participate which we had agreed upon. My roll was to play the oil and for her portfolio she would be playing the roll of mother earth. Sure. Did I get it? No. Do I have too? Nope. I undressed, put on tight pants (Basically skin colored underwear so there is always a bearier between us in that regard) and lay down below her. She proceeds to water board me with "oil" at which point I question the use of baking soda in the concoction as the bitter flavor is utterly disgusting. We do a few posses.
Guy renters the room uninvited and says "I knew you just wanted me gone so you could fuck her." And proceeds to storm off back to the waiting room. Now I am beyond pissed. I like to consider myself a feminist, though I suspect I am not doing as much as I should. I can clearly see this situation is not right. I tell her I need to deal with him, but in order to do so I need to shower. I'm covered in this goo which is doing its job and has obliterated a bunch of white muslin backgrounds, lights are dripping, we are covered (the photos were actually pretty goddamn fantastic, I was really pleased with her work). My studio had only 1 shower in it. I wasn't big time enough to spring for a shower in both bathrooms. Since I had assumed I would not have very many men showering in my studio I had decided to place the shower in the women's bathroom instead of the men's. This meant I had to instruct her to wait so I could shower off first. I felt like in this case I needed to be ready to contain fuck-boy should he decide to get physical with me.
Well. He did decide to get physical with me... with us actually. It was not at all what I had expected.
Five minutes into showering the door opens she walks in and informs me she is not waiting anymore shes cold and we are both professionals. I agree, trying to note what other photoshoots I had been required to shower off with a model; having found none in my memory bank I made a note that this shoot was going to be an interesting story to tell my children one day. It was at this moment that fate decided to tell me to hold its beer. Odditybeard decided to throw open the bathroom door. We are both halfway through our transformation back to human. He is naked. Completely. He had even remembered to remove his socks. What a considerate guy! And to our amusement he was rocking the smallest hard-on measurable. After a moment of silence for his sex life I asked him what the fuck he was doing. He explained "if you are going to fuck her so am I."
Ladies and gentlemen, with the force of a train I pushed past this fuck, slammed the bathroom door behind me, and pushed him back towards his clothing. At this point my stage hand who was setting up another set for our next shoot came running over unsure of the noise she heard. She finds me naked with this guy naked. I'm half dyed black and have a trail of black ooze flowing me out of the bathroom. She sees my face and realizes somethings not right and pushes past me to the bathroom. Enters. And I hear the door lock on the other side. Perfect.
I like to teach people lessons. I took the opportunity to redirect his thought process and to retune his perspective on women's choices. I also informed him that he needed desperately to shave his fucking neck. My wife laughs hard at this detail every time I am forced to retell this horror show at parties.
I found out a few weeks later after she had made it back to Vancouver safely. They had met online and he had promised to let her stay the night for free. They had even planned there own photoshoot after mine! You see Odditybeard was a new photographer whose last name is actually Oddity. Hence his name on this post. He hadn't allowed her to stay for free either, just like I assume you know by now that he wasn't a photographer. He had tried to force her into having sex with him, since he was such a nice guy and had allowed her to stay. Needless to stay I made sure this information got around. The community is vast but close. He was black listed immediately. Banned from places like Model Mayhem etc. Years later I found out he had attempted to do that to me. He had flipped the script and claimed she was his girlfriend and that I bad forced her to shower with me. He also tried to befriend my girlfriend at the time. Which almost worked. Sadly.
Where is this specimen of humanity now? He works a dead end job and is married to a Nice Girl. Life works out, you know?
Enough comments and likes. I have about 10 other horror stories that fall into Nice Girl/Guy or Neckbeards. Photography attracts the best people.
TLDR: Photog invites curvy model to photoshoot for commentary on oil. Model decides she needs stronger material for her portfolio asks photog who also models to step in. Creepy friend of model who agreed to drive her there gets angry but decides he can salvage the situation by attempting to force a threesome on the model and photog who were not even remotely thinking about sex in. Any. Way. Photog kicks guy out. Creepy neckbeard then makes it his goal to try and destroy photogs career. Fails miserably and is instead caught, again, for being a super-creeper the likes of which Lucas Werner could be proud of. I believe he might in fact be Lucas Werner's spirit animal.
submitted by AereonTheed to WalterFate [link] [comments]


2020.10.16 21:24 danaenewell At on having camera work sex caught

if you’re in an abusive relationship right now, i am so sorry. whoever the abuse is coming from, and whatever kind of abuse it may be, i am so sorry. my (now ex) boyfriend tried to kill me numerous times when i was 14 and 15. he hit me, screamed at me, gaslit me, it was awful. he ruined my relationships with my friends, he ruined my relationship with my mom, he made sure that i had no one to turn to. he made sure that nobody cared about me. i had a weird and specific set of rules. i wasn’t allowed to listen to music, i wasn’t allowed to wear jeans with holes in them. i wasn’t allowed to use snapchat other than to keep my streaks, i had to delete my instagram, i wasn’t allowed to wear thongs, i wasn’t allowed to wear shirts that didn’t cover my entire midriff, i wasn’t allowed to wear anything with a brand logo on it, i wasn’t allowed to save my money, i wasn’t allowed to drink or smoke, i wasn’t even allowed to drink kombucha because it was fermented. he did everything he could to make sure that i was all alone in the world. that i felt bad about myself. i told my parents, i told friends (before i was cut off from them) but nobody believed me. i even went to the police, many times. nothing happened. it just made it worse. the only thing that saved me was when he gave me a fat lip during school. he of course did it in a room with no cameras so he wouldn’t get caught. i had to go to the nurse to get ice and when that sweet little lady asked what happened, i tried to lie. that was the first time i was grateful that someone didn’t believe me. i told her what happened and a few weeks later i got a year long PFA (protection from abuse). i didn’t really have any hard evidence besides the picture of my lip but they still gave it to me. ever since the day it ended i triple check that all my doors and windows are locked. i’m constantly scanning the road while i’m driving praying he won’t see me. everywhere i go i’m on high alert. my mom made me stop going to therapy just about a week after i got the pfa. she said it was a waste of money and that i was fine. i’ve tried coping with everything i can think of. drugs, alcohol, sex. it doesn’t work. it does feel good though, listening to music as loud as i can. posting on instagram. wearing thongs and jeans with holes and the tiniest little crop tops. rebuilding my relationships. the breath of fresh air i took once i was finally free was something i’ll never forget. you will be okay, someday. you are strong, you are brave, you are beautiful, and you are loved. your breath of fresh air will come.
submitted by danaenewell to abusiverelationships [link] [comments]


2020.10.14 05:29 iansmitchell Caught on camera having sex at work

Context: this episode would go between the first and second episode of Season 6. There are spoilers for seasons 1-5 in here.
Season 6, Episode 1.5: Horse Therapy Cold Open Bojack, age ~9 is in at soccer practice. Beatrice pulls up in the car. She takes on a long drag of her cigarette. Bojack approaches the car, bea locks the doors with a click, rolls down the window. “Oh goody, you’re filthy again” “We won, mom!” Bojack says excitedly “Won? What kind of accomplishment is there in that? Is world hunger suddenly solved because you won a trifle?” “No mom” Bojack replies, deflated “Strip all that off before you get in. I’m hosting a party at the house today and won’t have time to clean up after your pungent petulance.” says Beatrice Bojack complies. “I have half a mind to turn the hose on you before you even enter my home. Your father would shudder to see. You, tracking dirt inside, sullied by your involvement in this European foot-folly” Bea pulls in at the home. Bojack gets out, and hoses himself off. He shivers from the chill of the cold hose water. Scene transitions into Beatrice methodically putting on her white party dress, matching dance shoes. She hums “I will always think of you” as she takes the necklace off the bust in her bedroom, holding it in her palm. She looks into the necklace, her face reflected in it, a small crack in the jewel overlays on her forehead in the exact same place as Honey’s lobotomy scar. Scene transitions into Season 6 opening theme with a singe sound and a cigarette burn outro
Outside, at the Horse Therapy stable. Bojack lays on hay bales. Doctor Champ: Bojack, you’ve been here 18 weeks now. That’s almost 3 months. You’ve told me why you think buildings should be rectangles. You had that whole phase where you only talked about Erica. You told me about Herb, Sara Lynn and Penny and even Harper. As we say in the sober community “Amends doesn’t mean depends.” You told me about Marv Sbarbori- who was your agent after- Ana? “Princess Carolyn.” "Yes, let’s talk about your agent, Carolyn."
“No, no, no, Princess Carolyn. The first time we met she was my Agent’s assistant.” “And why haven’t you mentioned her before?” “Oh no reason. Hey! Did I tell you about that time I broke into the Nixon library?” “Bojack, you’re deflecting” DC replies singsongly “Okay. " “The first time we met, she hosed tapioca pudding off of my drunken body. I wish I could say that’s the biggest mess I ever left for her to clean up” “And you need to make amends to her because of the messes you left behind for her? ... “The first time I tried to get sober, I was with PC” “With? As in working together?” “We were having sex. Not really dating. But things were getting serious around 2008” *Bojack sings along to generic 2008 pop song, a soundalike of “low” driving scene transition. The home loans billboard is plastered over with a red “CREDIT CRUNCH” stamp. Tumbleweeds blow in front of boarded storefronts. A obama “HOPE” style poster with an Antelope version of Obama reads ‘LOPE.* Bojack pulls up in front of VIM as a Lemur with a briefcase embossed with a LEMUR BROTHERS logo holds a cardboard sign saying “GLOBAL FINANCIAL CRISIS. ANYTHING HELPS” A young Emily, still wearing Todd’s hat, tosses change into his briefcase. “Oh hey PC… is Marv in? “Marv quit. Over eight months ago. I’m your agent now Bojack. You haven’t taken a job since you got done with that Bojack Horseman Show with Cuddleywhiskers last year” “I’m recovering. I’m really trying to find my voice, PC” “Oh, the one that says “Wasssup bitches?” or a different voice?” “Princess Carolyn. I don’t like that character” “Bojack Horseman, the character, from the Bojack Horseman Show?” The tone shifts slightly. Piano plays “Yes that… character. I don’t like him. He drinks too much. He doesn’t care about other people. He’s out of control” “But the show, it’s over… right?” Music stops “Network killed it. Cuddlywhiskers and I haven’t talked since. Jill Pill and him are on the rocks, she asked to crash on my couch, but I don’t need to get caught up in her... web.” “Then you don’t need to play that character anymore- and you can play this one! It’s called Sergeant Reckless, after the war horse” “I know that horse. And that war. Korea. I prefer wars that america either won or lost. Not the one we went halfsies on” “Focus, Bojack. If we don’t get you on a project you’ll be off the air for another 10 years” “Hey, I have a better idea than you busting my balls like I’m some kind of gelding. How about we go on a date tonight?” “Tonight? Bojack, I’m still cleaning up the mess Marv left. Do you know how many apology bikinis that man itemized on his taxes? I’m not sure if Vigor is even in the black if we stop deducting those” “You work too much, PC.” “Okay. You win. Tonight, it’s a date” Doctor Champ: So what happened? Did you get drunk at the date and make a scene at the restaurant? Bojack: No, she actually made the scene. Outside shot: L'Anteater Pizzeria da Michele A sign in the window says “LOVE. PRAY. EAT.” Bojack walks in, princess Carolyn is sat with a sparkling bottle of water labeled “Terrier” Bojack sits down. “Waiter! Let’s get two glasses of house wine. Red. Oh! And a Catbernet, for the lady?” A young Sandro, clean-shaven and thin, buses a table. “I canna-no-give you the wine. Here am I only the bussing boy. But one day, I will wait, just you wait!” Bojack, angrily “Waiter! Sommelier! Andiamo!” A waiter appears, a mouse who resembles Remy from Ratatouille
“Finally! Two glasses- no a bottle, house wine. Red. Oh! And a Catbernet, for the lady AND GARLIC BREAD” “Actually Bojack, I’m fine with my sparkling water” “What are you? Mormon? Muslim? Pregnant? Jain?” “Bojack- yes- I’m” “Oh. Jain? I had no idea.- - Waiter! No garlic bread” “No. Bojack. I’m pregnant.” “I’ll get out of your hair” the Remy-resembling rodent retorts, retreating from the awkwardness. “And you’re sure… it’s mine?” “Whose else would it be? We’ve been dating for eight months, Bojack” “Now I wouldn’t call it Dating” “You are my agent, afterall” “Bojack. I need you to be serious. I want this. A family. With you. Can you at least give me an answer? Don’t you owe me that?” The scene dissolves as Jameson rings a triangle. “Time for visitors!” An extended version of the S1:E1 scene where Bojack puts his phone into the bag during visitor time, as the opening line of Joshua Radin’s Winter plays. Bojack again has no visitors. Bojack looks up and imagines how the people in his life must be. Hollyhock wears a freshman lanyard, making her “manheim-mannheim-guerrero-robinson-zilberschlag-hsung-fonzerelli-mcquack” door decoration. Todd entertains Ruthie. Diane writes a listicle on her work computer “FIFTEEN REASONS WHY YOU SHOULD WRITE A LISTICLE (Number 4 will shock you!)” Mister peanut butter’s ears lift “BOJACK HORSEMAN, WHAT IS THIS, A FAN FICTION?” Bojack shakes his head, snapping out of his daydream. He goes to the vending machine and buys fritos, walking far away from Stinky Susan before sitting and beginning to eat them as he stares out the window at Partridge's. Scenes emerge instead of what people in his life are actually doing. Hollyhock, in the top bunk of her dorm bed, headphones in, back to her normal weight, looks back at the “Lovin’ the california lifestyle” picture in her instagram feed. She pinches at the fat on her stomach. Todd refreshes the “all about that ACE” app, “no matches found” Pickles and Mister Peanutbutter lay in bed, PB spooning her. She stares lovingly at her engagement ring. “Oh Mister, can you imagine how it must feel to love someone and only have sex with them and nobody else and always tell them everything for the rest of your life?” Mister Peanutbutter looks dismayed. Letters from Bojack at rehab pile up at Diane’s apartment. Later, Bojack sits at his window in pastiches, staring at the starry vodka water bottle as he blows smoke out the window. “Bojack. This is serious” Carolyn says into her office phone, now read a 2009 MAGAZINE. T
The ‘LOPE obama campaign poster replaced with a “UP THE ANTE!” victory poster is visible on the cover. “Turtletaub says he’ll never cast you again if you stay wishy-washy on this Sergeant Reckless movie- this could be a real career (she stresses the vowels with a vaudeville flare so as to inflect the word as “Korea”) changer!” “PC, I already said no to that one. How are you, by the way?” Princess Carolyn stares over at the gin setup in her office, then back down at the pamphlet. A pamphlet from a funeral home called “Venue” with a silhouette of three vultures in a tree is on her desk. “I guess we didn’t talk. But it’s shitty. Bojack. Pa and I hadn’t talked in years” PC chokes up a bit. “It’s just so much harder knowing we can’t. That's where we left it. He went to Raleigh, I went to... UCLA. (Echoing her mother’s southern draw, she pronounces it “You see L.A.”, just as her mother did years before”) “Do you want me to… go?” offers BoJack, shyly. “Yeah?” “Yeah.” Bojack and PC’s plane lands at “Raleigh-Dachshund International Airport” Princess Carolyn and bojack exit a taxi, now dressed in funeral garb and go into “Whispering Warblers” cemetery Cutie Cutie Cupcake Eulogizes “June 6, 1974. That’s when I became a mother. And that’s when Pa became, well. Pa. We had 11 kittens, one job between us, but when we looked down on our litter, we both felt like that little white ball landed on our number for once. Now, it’s no secret that Pa hopped onto 86 and 86ed us… maybe he was right, that I hit the bottle too hard. But Pa never hit me. When we were together, it always felt like I knew. I knew what to do. When he left, I felt lost. Now that he’s gone, I feel loss.” Bojack grabs PC’s hand. He holds it tightly as she cries. The shot of their clasped hands dissolves into another shot of their clasped hands. “Ready?” says PC. “Ready.” replies bojack. Their hands separate. Bojack stands. “I’m Bojack, and I’m an alcoholic.” “Hi bojack” replies the room of the AA meeting.
“It’s been one day since my last drink.” In a pan of the room, we see Sharona and a very strung-out looking Leo the Lion. The camera settles at the water cooler, and shot dissolves into the gin bottle at princess carolyn’s office. She is on a phone call, on her Iphone 3G. “Uh huh.” “I see.” “And there’s nothing I can do?” Carolyn lets out an exasperated sigh. Her expression turns visibly distraught. She stands, walks over, and pours herself a drink. "One day at a time," PC mutters, then she downs the gin from a martini glass. DOCTOR CHAMP: Sorry we got cut off last session. As we say in clean living community “Sometimes you need B plot to have A plot!” Bojack: “What?” DOCTOR CHAMP: While we’re on letters, why don’t you give me TMI about PC BTW? Bojack “Ugh. Fine.” Back at the pizzeria “Princess Carolyn. I can’t do both.” “You can’t do a korean war movie and have a baby with me?” Bojack: “I can’t keep wasting your time, and mine.” Princess Carolyn: “Then don’t” “PC, I’m an alcoholic.” “And I love you, Bojack” Scene transitions back to Bojack on the hay bale with Doctor Champ Doctor Champ: “Why do you need to make amends to Princess Carolyn?” Bojack: “I wasted her 30s” *opening chords play, end credits begin”
submitted by iansmitchell to BoJackHorseman [link] [comments]


2020.10.07 08:36 denimwoodsman Caught on camera having sex at work

I’m not really sure how to start off this story, so here it is. I’m not going to reveal my name for safety reasons, not that it will matter for much longer. For the sake of it, you can call me David. I work at my father’s business, which makes sex toys. Embarrassing detail, but as I said it won’t matter for long. Anyways, the business makes a ton of money per year, I’m talking billions. You might be thinking I’m in a great spot, and you’d be wrong. I work in customer support. The bottom, to be specific.
Originally, I was going to take over the company when I turned 21, which was a little over three years ago. So how did I end up in customer support? Well, for my 21st birthday, I went partying with some friends. We hit clubs, bars, casinos, strip clubs, you name it. I woke up in a cell the next day, to a look of disappointment from my father. Me and my friends got shitfaced at a bar, then went to the nearest casino. I blew through over $600,000 and tried to bail on the payment. I, drunkenly, drove through a building.
Long story short, I’m sitting on a little over $1,000,000 in debt. I also contracted chlamydia from a stripper, and my fiance left me when she found out. My father decided that I wasn’t responsible enough to take over his business, and needed a real job. He offered me customer support in his company, and I took it. I had no other options, I couldn’t leave town, and nobody would hire me. But not writing this for sympathy, I’m writing this as a warning.
Now I’m sure many of you have heard of the dark web, probably heard a number of horror stories about it too. Well, here’s another one for you, but take this one seriously. There is a source on the dark web, which I will not name, that is something like a hitman. It is a little difficult to put how it works into words, but it’s an important detail.
You put a warning hit on someone, along with a reason and how much you will pay, and wait for a hitman to take the case. Once one does, you talk with the hitman about a timeframe, what you want from them, and how their death should look should they not agree to your terms. The hitman then tells the person there is a hit on them, and how they can keep themselves alive. If the person tries to flee or does not meet the terms before the deadline, the hitman kills them. If the hit is carried out, the hitman keeps 100% of your payment. If the person agrees to the terms, the hitman takes 10% of what you paid him.
An example for a little more clarity: your daughter is raped by person A, and despite the evidence person A is not punished. You put a warning hit on person A. Your case would sum up to “person A raped my daughter, I will pay $10,000.” A hitman takes your case and you tell them “person A has three months to pay $250,000 and if he does not, make his death look like an accident.” The hitman collects your pay and tells person A about the warning hit, and the terms. If person A meets the terms, he is off the hook, and the hitman returns 90% of your payment. If he does not meet the terms, flees, goes to police, etc. then he dies in an accident and the hitman keeps your payment.
I hope that made sense to you. Now I’m sure you are poking holes or have questions already. A little more info I can give you is: you choose what to offer the hitman and he/she will accept or decline, there is no set payment but higher status people cost more, death and terms can be almost anything you want, most of the hitmen will not do more than a one year timeline, nobody has ever been caught. Now what I’m sure you are wondering (or probably already figured out), why does this matter? Well, let’s get to that.
About a month ago I was at work answering calls from dissatisfied customers, who decided to take out their anger on me. I was five minutes from lunch when I got another call, and my supervisor made me answer it. I wasn’t in the best mood, and didn’t want to get an earful of profanity from a customer, but that’s exactly what I got. He was screaming about how he spent close to $300 and hadn’t gotten his stuff after a month, and was giving me demands between his insults. I spent most of my lunch break trying to talk with the guy, to no avail. In hindsight this was the wrong decision, but I snapped.
I was screaming back at the guy, telling him I didn’t care if his middle aged overweight ass didn’t get his sex doll, along with a number of other insults. Again I know I made the wrong choice, but I had been dealing with this daily for years, and I’d had enough. I slammed the phone down and stormed out. My father called me later that day, telling me I’ll need another job. Unfortunately for me, it didn’t end there.
I didn’t know this at the time, but the guy I was talking to knew a ton about technology, and spent a lot of time on the dark web. Not only did he trace the call, but he hacked into the company computer system, and found every piece of information there was about me. To top it all off, none of the security programs in place picked up anything. So how do I know this? The next day I woke up to a pounding on my door. When I answered it, the only thing I found was an envelope. Inside it was a letter (some details changed) which read:
Dear Mr. David,
I am a hitman of “Generic Hitman Agency”, and you don’t want to meet me. The reason you are reading this is because a warning hit has been placed on you by my client, Mr. Client. If you do not meet his terms, we will meet. If we meet, it is game over for you. You must be wondering what the terms are.
My client purchased some products from the company you formerly worked at. After a month of waiting, my client has not received the products. He called to inquire about them, but only received your insults as an answer. He traced the call to you specifically, and put this hit on you. The terms he has set up for you are as follows: “I want the products I paid for, as well as $10,000 in compensation for the wait and your attitude”. You have 30 days to meet my clients terms.
If you meet the terms, you are safe. If you fail to meet the terms, you will die. If you attempt to flee, I will find you. Any attempts to escape the hit without meeting my clients terms will fail.
If you fail to meet the terms, the method of execution chosen by my client: to be restrained and sealed in a large block of silicone. I will be the one to perform your execution. The decision is yours.
Signed, Hitman
I couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of my “execution.” I sat the letter on the counter, and called my father. I asked him if the letter was some kind of joke because of yesterday, but he had no idea what I was talking about. I was going to take a picture of the letter to send to him, but the only thing on the counter was small bits of ash. It was almost as if the letter self destructed, like what you see in spy movies. I found this very strange, but assumed it must have been a dream.
Three weeks later, and I had completely forgotten about the letter. I had managed to find a job that paid the bills. I was on my way home from grocery shopping, when I got an uneasy feeling, like I was being stalked. I tried to write it off as some random paranoia wave. When I got home, I found another letter attached to my door. I assumed it was just mail and grabbed it as I went inside.
I sat my groceries in the kitchen and opened the letter. This one confirmed the last one was not a dream. The second letter read:
Dear Mr. David,
I have noticed that after three weeks you have made no effort in meeting my clients terms. As the previous letter was destroyed, allow me to refresh your memory on the terms: Deliver the purchased products and $10,000 to my client or you will be restrained in a large block of silicone. It has been 21 days since you were given the first letter.
Now Mr. David, I do look forward to your execution. The method is out of the ordinary for my line of work, and quite ironic. I would very much like to try it on you. However, I believe my client would much prefer you meet his terms. This letter is to inform you that you have nine days remaining to meet the terms. Your time is running out, make your decision.
Signed, Hitman
Before the letter had a chance to self-destruct, I grabbed my phone to take a picture. I managed to get a picture before the letter dissolved into ash. Any hope I had was shattered when I looked at the photo however. I was looking at a picture of a blank piece of paper. I was dumbfounded, I didn’t even know ink existed that would not show up on camera.
At this point I didn’t know what to do, I had nine days to come up with the money and the items. I thought about selling some possessions to raise the necessary funds, but I couldn’t raise $10,300 if I sold everything I had. I thought about it for a while, and came up with an idea. I still remembered the name of the hitman service Mr. Client had hired. My plan was simple, I will put a warning hit on Mr. Client. My terms, Mr. Client has three days to call off his hitman. It had to work, it was my only option.
I figured a couple grand would get me a hitman quickly. I put my car up for sale, and told people I needed it gone quickly. The car itself is worth about $4,500. I listed it for $3,000 to get it to sell, but only managed to get $2,500. I figured it might be enough, and went searching for the warning hit service. I had some experience with the dark web in my past, and did manage to find them, although it took a while.
When I got on their site, I found a form to fill out to place a warning hit. I put in the necessary information into the form and submitted it. I was hoping for a quick answer, and I got one. A hitman answered me and said she would do the hit. I was relieved as she told me she takes most hits and doesn’t ask questions.
The next day I found a large manila envelope on my door. I assumed it was about my warning hit and opened it eagerly. Inside was an envelope, a copy of my warning hit form with a note, and $2,500. I read the note first. It read:
We have reviewed and voided your warning hit. Despite it being accepted, the hit will not continue, and your target will not be informed. We do not allow hits on anyone who has an active hit. The reason for this is to prevent anyone from using our service to get out of a hit. If you attempt to place another warning hit on your target, a hitman will be activated to terminate you.
Well fuck, back to square one. I reviewed the items in the manila envelope, all the money was there, and the form had “void” stamped on it. I wasn’t sure what the envelope was for, my only guess was it was a letter from the hitman who took my case. Well, I was right about the hitman part anyway. Inside was a letter which read:
Dear Mr. David,
Because of the warning hit you attempted to place on my client, your termination will be carried out. You can no longer save yourself. You should already know this however, otherwise you would not have tried to place a hit on my client. Your little plan was doomed from the start however. One little detail you missed, once a warning hit has been placed, the client cannot call it off. Even though it’s a rule we have, I would have killed you regardless. What better opportunity to perform a unique execution like yours? See you soon.
Signed, Hitman
So that’s that, I’m a dead man. I sat in my living room for a few minutes brainstorming ideas. As I watched the papers dissolve on my table, I figured my best option was to completely disappear. I packed a bag and robbed someone of their car. I gave the owner $500 to “not remember” what I look like, and he agreed. I drove until the car ran out of gas, then started wandering through a patch of forest near where I broke down. I stumbled across a summer cabin and broke in. I planned to spend the night, but found a note waiting inside, it was short but it read:
David. No matter where you go, we will find you. There is no escape. Accept your fate.
They are right, I can’t escape this. They somehow knew I would end up here, how could I escape this? I sat down at the computer and figured I would spend my last few hours telling my story to reddit, and drinking the whiskey I found in the freezer. It’s too late for me, but not for you. Please, especially if you are a business owner, be goa;ersdljNaCnbabg gchgkxhufttgzsfaWQWDAxsg
Hey everyone, “David” is unconscious, but still alive. I saw his post and read through it. I figured I would post it for him, in a way they’re his last words. You may be wondering why I didn’t delete it, its evidence afterall. Well, how many stories have you read on here that you thought were true? Anyways, before I rudely interrupted him, I think he was telling you to be good to others. Especially if you are a business owner, or in his case, customer support.
I’m going to wrap this up, I have some business to finish. I suggest you take David’s advice, otherwise we might meet someday, and one of us won’t like that… Hitman, signing off.
submitted by denimwoodsman to horrorstories [link] [comments]


2020.10.06 22:00 Arnold4Alabama Caught on camera having sex at work

Note: graphic rape scenes included along with piss scenes (sorry if that's not your thing).
I was a broke, recently graduated college student working a pathetic, low paying, 9-5 job at a sketchy office firm as an assistant. I had let myself go over the years. I was barely under the weight standard of what would be considered obese and I wasn't about to let my confidence drift further down the drain. Against my better judgement, I pulled a loan from an extremely suspicious loan shark and began working on my body from taking quality muscle enhancement drugs to purchasing extensive workout equipment. In only 2 years, I had a 6 pack, toned muscles and my cheek and jawline was well-defined with all the fat burned away. My 6'1" height and round booty figure coupled with my blessed Korean looks had given me the edge I needed to attract guys and girls alike. Things were looking great for me but they weren't meant to last. I was walking home late one night after drinking at a the local tavern with some friends. My apartment wasn't too far but I was staggering. Before my face could recognize any faces, two men walked up to me and slammed me with a bat knocking me unconscious.
I was placed on a musty old mattress in what looked like a basement except it was cold and humid and smelled like dust. There wasn't much else in the room except for a hose, bottles of lube, and ton of weird substances that looked like an assortment of drugs. My observations for the room were interrupted by the realization that I was 100% naked with nothing on me except for a black leather harness that was locked to my chest (literally). I panicked realizing who, what, and why I was in this room and tried to budge open the door. Of course it was locked. I started begging, "Please, please give me just one more month and I'll pay double the interest rate! D-don't do this to me!"
No one spoke, instead, a letter was slipped under the door. All the color faded from my face and the room felt even colder. They had no intention of letting me pay them back to begin with. They saw me change and they loved how I started to become the best looking fuck toy. Of course, they could've continued to scam me and then lock me up in this room to be their play thing but their boss got impatient. I guess, this meant I know longer had to pay them back the money but this was the only silver lining.
The Wolf I heard the door unlocking and stepped back, thinking I could make a bolt for the exit. I was dead wrong. He was otherworldly tall and his mask added to this. His muscularly build literally blocked the exit and any hopes of escaping this room. Similar to me, he was also wearing a harness with spikes that looked like they were made out of real metal and his crotch was covered by a black jockstrap that screamed untamed power. After taking a good look at everything else, I finally went back to his mask. It was a wolf's head with fur sleeves and pockets covering portions of his face. The eyes on the wolf were gouged out leaving only his dark amber eyes to sparkle threw them. I don't think he shaved because I could see fluffy parts that looked more like human hairs than wolf hairs. He stepped inside and slammed the door shut as I took a gulp. I backed up further until I was next to the bed and against the cold concrete walls. He slowly made his way towards me. The fear that was bottled up in me was released and I screamed like a banshee. This only agitated him and made him angrier, so much that he began to growl. I started to doubt that he was human at all. He still kept the same pace but this time with anger all over him. I looked all over the room thinking of things to throw at him to try and stun and make him not fuck me. I threw the bottles of lube at him but he either smacked them away or caught them in one hand. Then I threw the table at him and it only stopped him for .00001 of a second. At this point, the room felt so small and I felt so small and insignificant against him. He was 3 feet away, then 2 feet, then 1 foot, until his hairy chest was just 3 inches away from my face. He was looking down on me with an evil, lustful smile. I froze in place and let him use his large right hand to lift my chin up and force me to look him directly into his wolf-like gaze. He wouldn't let me look away from him. He only wanted me to look at him.
My last act of defiance was spitting at his face and it turned out to be my downfall. He slammed me against the wall and growled even louder. I screamed out loud and he flinched for a second giving me a chance to run past him. The wolf wasn't having any of it and he grabbed the back of my harness. His biceps had my neck in a choke hold and my vision began to blur. I almost passed out until I was once against shoved and thrown around like a sack of potatoes. He had me laying on the bed, his thick thighs restricting my own legs, his hands were like cuffs and they squeezed the blood flowing into my fingers. I felt the wolf's crotch grinding against my own. It felt like titanium and could do nothing but watch as my foreskin was forcibly dragged along his jockstrap. I cried some more begging him to stop and exposing my mouth wide open. The wolf began to drool directly into my face, some of his saliva landed in my mouth. It tasted like cheap vodka with a hint of cigarettes and mint mixed in. I tried to spit out his saliva but then he shoved his tongue down my mouth and started tasting me all over. Tears were streaming down my face as I laid their helpless and breathless.
That was his only act of kindness. The wolf bent my body like putty and had my legs spread out into a 180 degree angle on the bed. I screamed like I had never screamed before as my legs were not used to being this stretched out. I felt the pressure on my arms go away but this was temporary. The wolf's thighs held my arms down and threatened to choke me as they squeezed down on my neck. I felt a wet, slimy sensation in my hold as I realized the wolf was dining on my ass cheeks. He was lubing me up with his spit instead of the complimentary lube set on the table. It felt like hours but in actuality, he was just getting started. The wolf let out an almost inhuman howl as I felt his thighs leave my arms and his face leave my ass. This was my chance to try and get away but it was no use. The wolf had released his jock strap and revealed the worst case scenario for my hole: a 10.5 inch cock with sizable girth and enough bush to realize that this whole wolf motif this man had going was fitting. His arms were on the sides of my ribs and he held me in place as his cock taunted my face cheeks with the head. I was not gonna suck him off, not that monster but it looked like he had no intention of forcing me to suck him. Instead, the wolf backhand slapped me so hard I fell right back on the bed, dazed and confused at the strength of the slap.
I felt an immediate stinging sensation in my small hole. I was gay and hooking up before but I always hooked up with guys with modest cocks. Five inches were fun, six and seven inches were exciting, and the occasional eight and nine inches were tough but manageable. This monster of cock was on a new level and I screamed until it felt like I would lose my vocals. I cried and begged him to stop and take it out but he smiled and spoke actual words for the first time.
"But it's only the first two inches," he replied as I denial filled my brain. He kept going in as fast as he could. It was like he was trying to get the whole thing inside me on record time. The only factor slowing him down was a biological. My ass had never been trained before to take this much cock and he knew it too. It was almost like trying to shoving an entire log down a skinny, one inch diameter hole. I felt his hands let go of my arms but I was too stunned to try and escape. He used his fingers to try and work my hold and I heard him grunt and moan as he got more and more inches inside me. I continued to scream as the tears began to blind any sign of the florescent light bulbs and concrete cinderblock walls.
At long last, he was inside me, the pain was excruciating, so much that my perception of reality was in limbo. I wasn't sure what was real and what was fake and I began to question every decision I made that led me to this moment. Only one thing was certain, the pain flowing through out my entire body. I barely noticed him sliding his cock out of my hole because no sooner than 1 second later, he slammed it right back into it and the cycle of pain started all over again. I was numb and out of it the entire time, any resistance and thoughts of escaping were non-existent now. I was a human play dough toy to him and he molded my arms, legs, shoulders, feet, and body how he see fit. His sadistic nature was almost like an artform to him.
I was laying on the floor, my body collapsed like a puppet whose strings were cut off. The wolf's legs were now parallel to mine and felt slam fuck me like this for a solid 10 minutes until he was tired of this position. He pushed me upright and now he was sitting and holding me like a used, blown up sex doll. My eyes were locked onto his but mine were lifeless and barely registered as human. This was my life now. I was this wolf's sex thing. My hole connected with his cock as I was sitting on his lap. I let myself go and let him hold me up right for him to continue fucking me. He eventually got tired of fucking me like this too and went back to fucking me on the bed. He had one of my legs bent an almost impossible angle as he started pumping deep inside me. The pain of my legs being overstretched was nothing compared to the pain of his cock inside my fragile anus. Eventually, I felt the pace pick up and before I could react, the wolf let out an ear splitting howl-like scream as I felt gushes of cum invading my anal cavity and then my larger intestines. He was done but he was still hard as ever, the difference being his cock was still pulsing with newfound relief. I had no strength to fight back and no strength to even pick myself up and try to get comfortable to recover.
The Pigs The wolf acknowledged this and simply dragged me around. I shut my eyes, thinking the worst was over and when I woke up, I was in a different room. This room was huger but also made of cheap, concrete cinderblocks and lit only by red strobe lights. I was attached to a swing-like contraption with wrists and ankles locked in place. I was wearing the harness still but this time a mask was attached to my face. It had a long tube stretched out to the top of this room. I barely caught a glimpse of natural outdoor light and I thought this was my only chance to try and scream to the outside world for help. the mask attachment did nothing but hinder anything remotely like a scream. I heard a door open and watched as countless guys walked in with almost nude and with hard cocks. They were all different sizes, ages, races, heights, with varying cock lengths and girths but what they all had in common were the masks they wore. All of their masks were identical, they were pigs that looked like they came from the Saw movie franchise and I was frightened as they began to laugh and snort like pigs. My mind cleared up and I realized what the tubes and swing were for. I struggled some more but my encounter with the wolf has my stamina running on nearly empty. My ass was position in such a way that not only could I not turn it over, but it provided the optimal angle for which any of the pigs could enter comfortably into my still stretched hole. The long tube connected to my face was some kind of device that could drain liquids nearly into my nose and mouth but not suffocate me. There were large enough openings on the sides of my masks to help drain these liquids. This was the ultimate set up for bukkake and bareback sex and I was horrified at the thought of STDs and STIs spreading all over me but I had not choice in the matter. My suffering was as inevitable as the pleasure the wolf and these pigs would force themselves to get out of me. In a sick turn of events, an intercom with a robotic voice announced the start of the 23rd annual cumdump site. The pigs spared no second walking up to me to feel me all over and finger my really loose hole. I lost track of the number of times guys would likely kick my balls and cock or sucked them to sooth them. I lost track of the number of times entering in and out of my hole with either their mouths or their cocks. Quite frankly, their cocks were a far cry to what the wolf's cock felt like and thus, I was relegated to being the perfect cum dump. Some weren't even trying to shoot their load inside me, aiming it on my ass just to keep it moist was enough for them. some made and effort to cum on other parts of my body like my face but for the most part, all of the loads went right into my hole. The circulation of guys walking in and out of the room was enough to dull out the pain.
Meanwhile, a television screen in front of me appeared revealing the purpose of the upstairs room, what I thought was the outdoors. For guys less inclined to take risks, they had nothing but live footage of the pigs fucking and cumming all over me as they jerked off and came into a customized urinal with the tube attached to my mask. The line stretched outside of the room and seemed to go on forever but once again, these men were all wearing the same pig masks. Some came quickly while others stayed to continue to enjoy watching the show. There was an unspoken rule that once you came you were to head to the end of the line or watch elsewhere. Other filthy bastards took the time to piss into the urinal afterwards and watch as it start to flow down the tube. The way the tube was angled to my mask was at an almost 60 degree angle. It was not enough for the piss and cum to just fall on my head and slide down the sides but was high enough to the point where it would drain slowly but surely splash into my face. The pigs enjoyed every second of it, they enjoyed every drop landing on my nose. When I accidentally swallowed a drop they would all cheer out loud and furiously jerk off or piss some more hoping to get more down my throat. Eventually the smell of piss and cum mixed together dulled out my nose and I no longer had any notion of throwing up (for fear of consuming more cum and piss). My stomach felt bloated, as if I had over douched prior but this was just the consistency of the cum melting together to make an almost liquid concoction that could permeate my intestines. I watched on camera as my once, slightly tanned ass was now the very definition of a cream filled donut with white icing on top. As impressive as this was, it compared nothing to the amount of cum that was evident on the once clean and pristine concrete floors. Cum and piss were splattered below my mask and the cum below my asshole was now drying and thickening too. It spoke to miles about the terrible aiming of these pigs in general.
These pigs were surprisingly generous (or remorseless depending on how you look at it) and installed a clock for me to try and account for the amount of time that had passed by. There were still groups of guys lining up at the urinal and the number of guys taking turns on my barely noticeable ass cheeks were still about the same. This went on for hours and I could do nothing but watch and observe the variety of techniques.
Hour One: The pigs fucking my ass attempted to double penetrate me but only gave up when the cum started to make them lose their own footing. The ones at the top floor grew impatient and soon, three pigs at a time were crowding at the urinal to release their loads and piss.
Hour Two: Maintenance finally came in and funnily enough, they were wearing pig masks but unlike everyone else, they wore custodian clothing. They could hardly be called custodians seeing as that would imply cleaning up messes. Instead, they took out cat scoopers and began to shovel whatever wet cum on the floor was left. They then spread the mixture onto all parts of my body. The tube began to clog. To remedy this, the custodian pigs took and hose and began to spray down the tube with water. It was a welcoming sensation since this would have been the first time I had been cleaned since being kidnapped here. As disgusted as I was, I could not help but be impressed with how quickly they did all of this. They only spent 10 minutes in total.
Hour Three: The barrage of loads in my hole and down the tubes were a biological rainstorm to me. I started regaining more feeling in my asshole allowing me to push out some of the cum. This was quickly replaced with more guys refilling it. There were noticeably less pigs than before.
Hour Four: A few stragglers came in and filled me up but now I was able to listen to the sickeningly terrible porno music they were apparently playing all day. Just as I was about to give up all hope of this ending, the robotic voice intercom appeared thanking all pigs for entering this years dump. I should be thrilled it's all over but I felt nothing. I now had the weight (literally and mentally) of all those guys who had used me for their own pleasure along with any health side effects they may pose. The door opened once more and I anticipated yet another pig but instead came face to face with the wolf again. The wolf untied me and unlocked the mask connecting to my face. He then took his own mask off revealing his distinct facial features and steely-eyed complexion. A small, hidden pool of piss and cum mixture came and splashed part of his manly face but it did not faze him in the slightest. He was too busy staring into my lifeless eyes and unharmed lips. He kissed me with them, the faint taste of cum in his tongue before forcibly shoving my face back down. The wolf wrapped a towel around me and carried me like the garbage I am. I slowly began to black out again, this time oddly more peacefully than before. I heard the door open one last time before knocking out entirely. My last thoughts were this:
"Am I free now? Am I going to die? Is this wolf going to devour me now? I don't care anymore. I have served my purpose and this wolf, those pigs, they own me now and I am now their meat,"
submitted by Arnold4Alabama to u/Arnold4Alabama [link] [comments]


2020.10.05 18:53 chemicruel Caught on camera having sex at work

We open with a slideshow of what is to come within the next 2 hours. A piano instrumental of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” plays over the slideshow. Is Elvis fundie-friendly? Hard telling.
I won’t go on about this slideshow for very long, because it doesn’t seem to have an ending. Cue more photos of the bride and groom posing in the church parking lot. Photos look like they were taken with an iPhone 5.
Holy fuck, the music changed from a sweet, soft piano, to a royalty free fiddle quartet VERY suddenly. Had to actually pause and turn down my TV so I wouldn’t wake my boyfriend. We get another slideshow! Keep in mind, we are 48 seconds into this 2 hour feature film.
This second slideshow is amazing. I get a quick crash course in the Rodrigues family— this seems odd to put in your daughter’s wedding video, but I appreciated the cheat-sheet nonetheless.
David, the headship, looks like Droopy.
I am now certain that Jill only included this “meet our family” segment in her daughter’s wedding video so that she can garner more attention from it. Gonna start a drinking game where you drink every time Jill is hopelessly clawing for the spotlight.
All the sisters look exactly the same. I will not be able to learn their names. I assume Nurie will be wearing a white dress.
Why the hell is there a clip of Jill and Nurie filmed 2 days before the wedding, where Jill talks about “how she’s so amazingly honored that Nurie asked her to be the Matron of Honor?” Who cares? No wonder this video is 2 hours. Nurie gasses up her mom some more. Side note, Jesus Christ, Nurie is fucking thin.
Jill: “I’m [Nurie’s] best girlfriend, and Nathan is her best boy-friend.” Deep, deep sigh.
Are they getting their nails done at an ice cream parlor?? This is most certainly not a nail salon. Why do they all have ice cream and nail clippers? Is this illegal? It honestly feels like I’m witnessing a crime.
Wedding rehearsal. Droopy is yelling. The amount of plastic water bottles being wasted is astounding. Do they know about reusable bottles? An old man prays for the wedding party. I see Sex Pest and OfPest!
Not that I even have to mention this, but this was filmed in July 2020, during the pandemic, and there’s not a fucking mask in sight. Cmon people! Most of you are pregnant or 80 years old! Blind ignorance will be their shield, I suppose.
Boring wedding rehearsal. The hired pianist is working hard for their money. My boyfriend just walked in and mentioned that Droopy also looks like Bluto from Popeye.
There’s the Pest of Sex himself! Why are Nathan and Nurie sitting back to back like they’re playing reception games? Isn’t this just the rehearsal? Why do they have Josh Duggar hosting this part of the night? There wasn’t ANYONE more suitable and less horrific? Y’know, probably not, now that I mentioned it.
Nurie gives a very insincere speech. Fake happy tears. “I’m so thankful for my mom and dad, being such wonderful parents...” no wonder Jill left this in. Nathan makes a rat face as he listens attentively.
I despise the red dress and his matching shirt. Looking like freshman year homecoming.
Nathan gives an equally dumb speech. Nurie’s got the adoring gaze down.
11:40 - Bluto’s stomach is an anomaly. Those jeans must be from college. Jill gives a teary speech that I am going to skip.
I can’t even hear Bluto’s speech because this piano backing track is too fucking loud. My boyfriend just pointed out that it’s the instrumental to “Friends Forever” and that makes Droopy’s speech so much funnier.
Blonde dude giving a speech. A Keller? I don’t care. Skip!
Mama Keller gives Sex Pest a baby to hold so she can give a speech. Mama Keller knows how to give a good speech: less than 30 seconds! As they wrap up, another old man prays over the group. A baby coughs violently during prayer. This is ground zero for Covid.
All the Rodrigues boys have Bluto’s ears. It’s like the Duggar hairline, but worse imo. Not to mention their rat smiles. They all look like they should be named Bertram.
A very candid photo of the men praying.
Is the bride getting ready in the preschool room of the church? More plastic water bottles.
These bridesmaid dresses were a choice. Nurie gets her photo taken in a bunch of rocks.
Did they hire a professional photographer? I already know the answer. It honestly looks like the photos were taken on a disposable camera.
Wedding arch is ugly. Enough said there.
WEDDING BABY!!!
Whoever is holding the camera for the ceremony is really giving me the genuine Cloverfield experience.
Why are there so many people standing up and filming? So many people on their phones during the procession.
I count 3 full-white dresses in the audience. For families that have ~7 weddings a year, they have zero etiquette.
ANOTHER SLIDESHOW??
“Nathan Edward Keller, born 4/23/1996 to Mike and Suzette..” why do I care???
Baby pictures of Nathan and Nurie. Hard skip.
Nathan looks exactly like the rat from Flushed Away. Or the rooster from Chicken Run.
Jill must’ve plugged in a USB or something during the slideshow, because we get a good, loud Windows alert noise at the very end of the slideshow. It helped break me out of my dead-eye trance, so I’m grateful for it.
I’m an unmarried individual, but is it standard for the groom and the groomsmen to start the ceremony at the alter? Why don’t they walk down the aisle? It’s your wedding day, dude!
All the groomsmen look like nazi youth.
Who is filming this?
Bridesmaids are walking too slow. That pianist is playing like the rent is due tomorrow and they need another $100 in tips.
Dumb baby in a wagon gag. Not everyone needs to walk down the aisle with you at your wedding.
White carpet being rolled out. It’s almost Jill’s big moment!!!!
Flower girls are cute. The only watchable moment so far. Flower girl #3 can’t be BOTHERED and I live for it.
And there she is in all her green glory! Nurie looks alright, too. I won’t even mention the Neanderthal on her left arm.
Okay. Let’s get through this awful ceremony.
Benny Sawyer, the pastor, everyone. Most of this speech made me incredibly angry, so I will summarize. “Marriage honors God, and whores will be judged. God created woman from man, so man could be whole. Women are helpmeets. Men are the authority. I’m homophobic. I’m an old fucking man. I spew shit into people’s ears for a living. Congrats Nathan, and I guess congrats Nurie.”
“God formed Adam out of the dust of the ground, and then formed Eve from Adam’s rib.” Yeah, and I was formed from the lint that got trapped in my dryer filter. Why do any women subscribe to this?
“Amen!!” From the Blonde Groomsmen, every time the pastor says something incredibly sexist or homophobic. Babies begin screaming.
I keep skipping and this chode of a man keeps fucking going on with his propogandic speech.
Thank fucking God he’s done speaking. I don’t even wanna watch the rest of this. But, I’ve made it an hour, so I might as well finish strong. They light their dumb fucking candle while Jill looks on, jealous this isn’t her moment.
Just figured out that Bluto/Droopy also looks like the Troll from the first Harry Potter.
Troll prays over Nathan and his Helpmeet.
Dad Keller prays that they never go to bed angry and always fix their problems before they go to bed. Dead ass.
OH MY GOD THEY’RE ALL SINGING
The theatre geek in me will rise for a moment: The fucking pianist is serving it UP. The girl sucks. Too bad the pianist probably wasn’t allowed to do theatre. He would’ve played a great lead in Children of Eden.
Oh God, is it over? I skipped 60% of the ceremony and I’m still so over it. Oh man, they’re all gonna sing. I can’t with this.
SKIP!
Vow time. God, these vows are long. I have never been more certain that I’m gonna elope and not have a wedding.
Nathan is still talking, and I went to the kitchen for a while and got a coffee and a snack.
Here goes Nurie. SKIP!
Rings. NO, NOT MORE REPEATING AFTER THE PASTOR!!
OH NO NURIE’S SINGING
It sounds like a song from Joseph: King of Dreams. Jill is crying. I feel like you shouldn’t sing at your own wedding unless you’re a really, really good singer. It’s always cringe.
Oh my fucking Christ please let this be the end.
They kiss and it’s bad. Like two barbies whose faces you smashed together.
HALLELUJAH plays as they leave. That’s about how I feel knowing this is over.
A slow mo shot of Jill walking down the aisle? Okay?
More iPhone 5 pictures of the groom and helpmeet. Seriously, how could you frame those in your house?
Okay on a serious note. Here’s what Jill added to the end of the slideshow that honestly speaks for itself:
“Thank you to everyone that came! The week of the wedding, the state of Ohio had increased cases in the coronavirus. Due to that fact, our state became a hot spot and we had a LOT of cancellations. We missed all our family and friends that could not come, but are grateful to those who did come! God bless you all!!”
Deep, deep, deep, deep sigh.
Here we go with the reception. Pest prays for his shitty family. More children cough.
No music to introduce the wedding party. Just the sweet, smooth stylings of Josh Duggar. What a sad, sad affair.
Jill misses her big entrance!!
Nathan enters, carrying ofNathan in this scrawny arms. They spin and do another 3rd grader kiss.
More coughing. They cut the cake while Josh talks aimlessly.
Nurie licks her fingers and then touches the cake. Nathan smashes cake in her face. He then licks it off her lips. And I throw up.
Lydia Plath caught the bouquet. For anyone who cares.
Bubble send off. Lackluster cheers. You can tell everyone is exhausted.
“This is their first time driving in a car without a chaperone!” Someone squeals. I wish I could find excitement in such little things. A little boy slams the window where Nurie is sitting. And with that! They’re off to enjoy(?) marital bliss. They peel out of the carport like Nathan has never driven a stick shift before.
Wait it’s NOT done?? They had a second reception? Josh is at the second reception, introducing the wedding party AGAIN. Probably because Jill missed it the first time around.
There’s at least 60 people in this one room.
It’s the Keller’s anniversary today too, so they honor them for a second. Whatever. Being married 40 years while you’re trapped in a cult is not an accomplishment.
Who is this in the defrauding blue dress at 1:38:00? Shoulders? At MY fundie wedding reception? Jana Duggar wouldn’t stand for this.
Anna Duggar makes her speech and it looks like she’s wearing brown nurse scrubs. I don’t care what she has to say. In fact, I don’t care about any of these speeches. SKIP!
Nurie does more fake happy tears. Hey folks, you don’t HAVE to cry at your wedding. It’s totally fine if you don’t.
Jill cries more.
THEY SING “happy anniversary” to the tune of “happy birthday” to the Kellers. I am amazed.
Best man talks about how he and Nathan used to always play “cowboys and Indians” (ugh) and how Nathan was always the cowboy and he was always the Indian. Skip!
Jill talks about how much she’s cried since Nurie’s gotten engaged. She’s talking about herself, which is probably pretty usual for her.
Oh MAN. They sign the wedding certificate and it’s OVER!!! Halle-fucking-lujah. Why did I do this?
submitted by chemicruel to FundieSnark [link] [comments]


2020.10.05 14:00 Angel466 Caught on camera having sex at work

PART ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-ONE
Friday
Lucas heard his name being called along with some other words blurred in and around his name, snapping him out of the daze he’d been in for a few minutes. He’d been sitting by himself in IR3, ever since he went to work this morning, and now that the final piece of paper and pens had been taken from him, he found himself staring at the empty metal desk in disbelief.
This time yesterday, he was across the hall with Angelo, trying to convince him there was nothing to fear and that he would be fine. Today he came in, fully expecting to join the manhunt for his former lieutenant, only to be sidelined in here for the last few hours.
This wasn’t normal.
If it wasn’t for the upper management all being his shield bearing superiors, he’d have doubted it was even legal. Quail had caught him at the doors and personally walked him into this room. “Do you need to use the bathroom, Dobson?” she asked, as they'd come up the stairs to the second floor. “Because you’re not going to get another chance for a few hours.”
He’d been fine. Confused as all fuck, but fine.
“Strings have been pulled,” she went on. “But only you can get yourself across the line. IR3 has been set up with the monitoring equipment rolling, so your every move is going to be recorded for posterity.” She paused at the door. “Give me your phone,” she said, holding up her hand.
Lucas’ frown deepened. “Detective …”
“Give me your fucking phone, Officer Dobson!”
When he finally handed it over, she traded it for two unopened bottles of water. “Don’t screw this up, Lucas,” she said, giving him a light shove towards the room.
Screw up what? He’d wondered at the time.
As soon as he walked in and saw the sealed exams and pens waiting for him on the desk, he realised what he was looking at and his heart leapt into his throat.
No! It’s too soon! I haven’t studied! What if I mess this up?!
At the time, Lucas had grabbed his spiking panic and wrangled it back behind the mental door labelled self-control. He knew it was all being recorded because Quail had told him it was. If he freaked out now, he’d have to sit these exams at the regular timeslots which could be anywhere up to six months away.
Stay in control. Breathe. Get your ass through this, Lucas. You can freak out later.
He was now at that later stage. The exams had been collected by a uniformed officer that was way above him in terms of paygrade and he sat forward in the chair with his arms outstretched in front of him, staring at the spot where the exams had sat. Did that really just happen? he asked himself for the thousandth time.
“Dobson!” Quail’s sharp bark snapped him out of his daze and his eyes shot to where she stood at the doorway, shaking his phone to get his attention.
He rose to his feet and went over to her; his eye drawing to the sheer barrage of missed messages that flashed on his home screen since he’d lost custody of it. Most of them were from colleagues at the Fifth who had come on shift and wanted to know what happened. Six were from Charlotte at different points of the morning saying she was fine and didn’t appreciate having to stop work a million times a day just to convince the jerk-offs in NYPD she was fine. They all had better things to do and she wanted it to stop.
Not gonna happen, darlin’, he thought to himself, scrolling through what started as a civil request and ended up with the type of language their mom would’ve had her sucking on a bar of soap for as a kid. The rest he could deal with later. Nothing was urgent.
He slid his phone into his left knee pocket (learning from that mistake yesterday too) and looked across to where Detective Quail’s expression was torn between her regular scowl and a smirk of superiority. Then he remembered she'd said something. “What was that you said?” he asked.
“I said, do you happen to own any business suits, detective?”
Lucas shook his head. “First of all, we don’t even know if I passed that exam.”
Susan left out a tching sneer of disgust. “Semantics. Do you own any suits?”
Lucas stared at her, then to her left where the open door stood. “Well, yes. Technically I've got one, but I wore it to my brother’s wedding three years ago and it made me look like a gorilla had been wedged into a fancy dress costume.”
“You might want to consider going on a shopping spree this weekend then.”
“I don’t want to waste time clothes shopping! I want Patrick Harris found!”
“And I want an all-expenses-paid world trip with Chris Hemsworth at my beck and call, but that ain’t gonna happen today either. Those pair of slippery fuckers know how we do things, which means they know how not to get caught. We’ll get ’em, but it’s gonna take time.” She waved his frustration away. “Trust me. Not always getting the bad guy straight away is the hardest part of the job and if you can’t get your head around that, you’re gonna burn out in a week.”
Lucas scowled. “He’s been fucking with my family for years.”
“So do you want him apprehended because of your sister, or because of the laws he broke and the victims he really hurt?”
Lucas gave the question serious consideration. The personal connection was strong, but stronger still were those victims that he’d interviewed. The ones that had been mentally, physically and emotionally brutalised so badly that he'd had to go and throw up everything he'd eaten that day because it just wouldn't stay down. Victims like Sophia, who now called herself ‘Smiley’. Or that college kid, Peter Baker.
By contrast, all that had happened to Charlotte was she’d been touched inappropriately once, and his career stalled soon afterwards. There wasn’t a contest who he was doing this for, though avenging his sister and himself might have been a definite perk.
“He knew what was going on at that club. Hell, according to Angelo, they got paid in tricks to help them. That sex club traded in kids as well as adults! People who were supposed to be able to put their trust in us were put on their backs and knees by people like him!”
“Lucas, you have to know this whole case is probably never going to see the light of day.”
Lucas froze, then turned slowly to look at her. “Excuse me?”
“What, did you think your rush into a gold badge was because you were an exceptional officer?” Quail shook her head. “They want you where they can keep an eye on you. This whole thing is going to be swept under the carpet by the Patriot Act, which means none of it is ever going to be known outside 1PP.” She gave him a hard look. “So they need you in 1PP where they can put a muzzle on you.”
“B-But the Patriot Act is for terrorism.”
“And now that they know this little network is a global crime syndicate, you’d be amazed at just how far terrorism can be bent to include almost any kind of international ill-gotten gains.”
“So, I was going to pass that exam, no matter what I wrote on it?”
Quail shook her head. “No. You still had to get across that line yourself. Your transfer to 1PP was inevitable, but if you fucked up that exam, you’d be coming in as a data analysis or janitor or something.”
The look on Lucas’ face must’ve been close to what he was thinking, for she took one look at him and burst out laughing. “I know. I picture you in a basement cubicle typing away too.” She then snapped the fingers of her right hand and poked him in the bicep. “Oh! Like when Mr Incredible had that job at the insurance company. You know ...” She then made a two-handed motion of typing one-fingered on a teeny-tiny keyboard half a foot from her nose.
If it wasn’t for Robbie’s love of Disney/Pixar cartoons, Lucas wouldn’t have had a clue what she was talking about. As it was, The Incredibles happened to be one of the few that appealed to him enough to watch ... more than once. He'd liked the idea of her comparing his physique to Mr Incredible.
“Getting you the gold shield like this means everyone wins. They get you where they want you, you get a promotion you should’ve had years ago, and you’re finally where you can start doing some real good in this city.” She rolled her hands palm up. “Win/win.”
“But it’s still not right.”
“How so?”
Where to start? “I’ve just basically sold out the people I’ve sworn to protect. They're never going to see justice if we use Tony and his people to go after the bigger fish. The only difference between me and Judas is my one piece of silver was a gold shield.”
Quail sobered. “Dobson, get your fucking head out of your egotistical ass. This isn’t about you. You’re going to be slapped with a gag order along with the rest of us when this goes down whether you’ve got a gold shield or not. It’s inevitable. You didn't sell them out for something better. You were never going to be able to tell anyone about this anyway, so stop thinking like that.
“Why do you think we haven’t been inundated with law-suits for the condition of Tony and his men? They’re probably right now getting their identities scrubbed from every system so they can be moved into a high-security hospital that doesn’t exist. This whole manhunt is going to be done under the radar, and you can either get on board with that or step aside and let the rest of us do your job for you.”
Lucas looked back at the table. “Was that exam even real?”
Quail nodded. “Yeah. It was. And the security cameras recorded your every pen stroke, so if anyone ever wants to call your promotion into question, your whole exam is on record. You had no outside help. The circumstances around your promotion may be suspect, but like I said when I first put you in there, no one but you could get you over the line. And given what I saw of your answers, I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about.”
“You were reading my answers?”
“Off and on. You’d be surprised how many people came through back there to see how you were doing.”
* * *

PART ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-TWO

Previous Part 180
((All comments welcome))
I made a family tree/diagram of the Mystallian family that can be found here
For more of my work including previous parts or WPs: Angel466 or indexed here
FULL INDEX OF BOB THE HOBO TO DATE CAN BE FOUND HERE!!
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2020.10.04 22:31 Few_Acanthisitta_604 At work caught on having sex camera

“I’m always late for everything. No one waits for a man like you, and for me no one waits ever.” That was Phil. “Take a nap. That's a good idea.”
“No one waits for you because you're not worth waiting for. If anyone waited for you they'd go back to what they were doing.” That was me. I sipped the water in my paper cup. “Is this water? It has a strange taste.”
“Rain water,” Phil choked.
“Toilet water?”
“We're too expendable to drink toilet water.”
“I don't imagine we should have to wait too long,” I said, primping my collar, looking down.
Then came my associate walking up even now. That was Thompson. I handed him a cup. He grabbed it and dashed it in the trash receptacle.
“Alright,” he shuffled his collar twice and rolled his shoulders, irritated, “I've waited long enough.”
“I don’t think I take orders from your mouth, sir,” I replied, sarcastically.
“The quota, the quota!” Thompson dashed papers from the desk next to him.
“Take your pills, Thompson, and let me bring to mind it was Casey and Marg and everyone else too, not just you and me...Thompson.” Phil joked at him.
“Boss is looking to me and you to make this happen. Now. Look.” Thompson slid a soft sheet of 22 point page on the desk in front of them, even before I got a word in.
“Let me see.” Phil looked intently. He seemed impressed. I skimmed the paper, showing a clear cut plan to meet our sales goal of two hundred subscription boxes of metal wall art. “Wow, am I going to have to have faith in you again?” Phil replied, with genuine respect. Thompson didn't change his face.
I raised my brow. “That seems good. But one flaw. One. The line about operations. Operations isn't good at pushing sales. Have the people from surveying do warm calls to suggest our new sale, and then have operations push sales three days later.”
Thompson twitched and thought. “What about the product deadline? We need something presentable by tomorrow.”
I replied, “Development will make a one day mockup before the warm calls. That is what the customers will see on our website. Then operations will be the ones to show them the final splash page with the more presentable product on it, three days from now.” I slapped my hand on the paper.
Thomson swallowed, breathed in, and sighed. “...That would work,” Thompson agreed.
Phil says, “In that case, I’ll ask my department to make displays to show the lower guys. Otherwise they might not follow.”
“Yeah,” Thompson said. Oh, Deborah.” Deborah, the head of operations, was just walking up now from her break. “I part the way to your call.”
“Oh look what a surprise,” said Phil. I smirked.
“Great news. I got our lunch increased to an hour and 20 minutes.” She said.
“Oh joy, now I can plan for that retirement getaway,” Phil replied. We broke into a thunder of laughter.
"This guy," Phil began, when later me and him were playing pool in my basement. He broke the triangle. “Crap, I'm breaking bad now. This *guy...*well, he uh, is just wreaking havok all over the place. No one gets it.”
“I've seen bits and pieces”. I replied. I took a shot and got the three ball. “A lot of it is just rumors.
“Call it what you will. It's very convincing.” Phil replied.
“Everything's convincing on Tv and twitter.”
“This one guy,” Phil continued, “just died--I mean it took him awhile but he just passed away... There are the crazy Revelation quirks saying it's the apocalypse or the judgement of God. Geez. I mean, in a way, I understand their logic.”
“Superheroes are among us…,” I replied smartly.
“ ‘Bout time,” Phil joked.
We play some more.
“How's the kid,” I asked him.
Phil replied, “Better, you know, Eli, better. I've really been making an attempt to make it to her games. What do you know I actually made it on time once. Twice.” He hit a ball.
“Makes all the difference, I mean you probably know that. Always remember when my dad finally made it to my Quizzer competition. I didn't think he'd be there, but there he was-- didn't change much between us, but you know, life stories.”
“That's one thing I don't get, Eli,” Phil replied matter of factly, staring at the wall behind me. “I mean--how the heck are you so timely. By God you could land a fly on your precision.”
“Oh my wife hates me for it. She always says I've got too much on my plate. Too boring.” I shrugged.
Phil laughed, “I was born with a bottle of booze in my hand, you, a watch.” He hit his last ball into the hole.


I stuffed a pinch of waffle fries into my mouth. And looked around. A man entered and stood across from me. “Mr. Laffe?”
I swallowed and stood up, and shook his hand. “Yes,” I smiled. Jam, the other guy, sat down and so did I.
“Nice to meet you.” I rubbed my hands on my handkerchief.
“Same,” replied Jam. “The food is so good here. I think I'll have to order something.” He picked up a menu and glanced it.
“About that opening -- Jam -- I don't usually say this, but I want to be upfront.”
The waitress came by. “Can I get you something?”
“Uh,” Jam glances. “I think I'll have a water and just a little biscuits and gravy.”
“Alright, I'll take those and be back shortly.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you.” Jam answered back. He pressed down his pant legs. “I'll be upfront. It's a tricky job. In my opinion it's worth the effort, and I'll let you judge that.” He slipped a form from a folder next to him. “Use this.” He held up a small device. “This is the magnetic spotter you will use. Pressing this button leaves a magnetic mark on metal surfaces, for our crew to read later.”
“Right,” I followed.
“You need to mark the places where you find anything that could be used for a nuclear war. Anything. Any trace, any item.”
“I see.”
“You may need a weapon.” Pam looked at Eli. “Do you carry a gun?”
“I have one locked up. In case. I've always had it. Legal handgun.”
“It's up to you, as long as it works. You now have a license to defend, not attack. But you’ll be alright, you won't see many fronts. Keep your eyes open, report anything suspicious, keep your pay in mind.”
“What happens if I get caught,” I asked.
“Call us.” He eyed his phone.“874-339-0106”
“Wh--”
“Someone will be there immediately.” Pam answered my question before I could ask.
“...A CIA line, I presume,” I asked.
“Sure, for your purposes.” He replied.
We talked for a while more. Then, I went home and got on my computer. He looked up someone I knew from high school on facebook and clicked the message icon. I typed some words, deleted, typed some words, then exited. That will be relevant later.
Me and my family went up to the lake that weekend. We had planned this getaway for some time. It was me, my wife Conner, my daughter, and Conner’s brother Ross and his family. I had planned everything, and as such, made everything go right on time.
“Nicer than I thought,” teased Ross, driving up to the vacation cottage. Ross was a redneck who loved fishing, yet spent a lot of his time in Virginia when he grew up, so had a prominent properness to him as well. He had a new vest on every time I saw him. He and his son started transporting their junk, as I directed my daughter while she assisted us.
“Here miss, let me help you with that,” Ross said to Eli’s daughter, Sarah, grabbing his big cooler from her hands. They went in and set it down, and were done.
“Geez. What did you guys pack?” Sarah asked.
“Beers?” replied Riley, Ross’s girlfriend.
“For you and Mar?” I questioned her.
“Eli.” said his girlfriend Conner nonchalantly.
“Are you trying to make me throw away my promotion? I never drink.” He shook his head, as he grabbed a piece of luggage. “Not even on the week off.”
“It's one night, sweets.” Conner rolled her eyes.
“There's a reason I don't drink.”
“Let me tell you, this girl will give you a reason to,” Ross opened a bottle, and smiled, pressing it to his lips.
Riley threw a couch pillow at her husband.
“I tell you who's gonna make me -- wanna get drunk…” Eli said as he looked down at the bottles with his arms partly crossed. “This girl. This…,” he waved his hands toward his daughter, smirking. “Teenagers. They'll kill ya.”
“Dad!”
“Oh yeah.” Ross peeked at Riley and said, “Kids expire past age 5.” The adults laughed.
“So how's uh-- Shay doing,” inquired Conner. Shay is Ross’ teenage son. He was already out back looking out at the lake.
“Good as can be.”
That afternoon, Ross and Eli set up paddling boats. “Eli you wanna grab the uh --”
“Yetis?”
“Right. Heck, just bring my pack next to the door if you don't mind just in case we do hike a little.”
“Sure.” I replied and went to get the stuff, yelling to the kids that they were about to go. I grabbed my yeti and filled it, not paying attention to how full it was, but looked down when I heard the water start to splash over into the sink. Suddenly, something happened that I could never explain. I saw a vision play out in front of me, as if I was looking at a reflection of the ocean in that cup, so vast it was it filled my entire vision, and I saw something play out in the water: four people, two men, two women were staggering backwards, their shirts covered in blood as they fell to the ground. There seemed to be a crowd around them, with balloons and confetti surrounding them. It lasted only an instant. But in that moment, I saw an entire day unfold. It was over, there was the yeti, and I felt like I just went on a ten hour hike. I leaned over the sink, trying to catch my breath.
“Honey. Honey?” Conner had entered the kitchen and saw me over the sink. “Are you okay?”
“Yes...I’m fine.” I stood up.
After that we went on our little boating expedition, all of us except, Riley as she didn’t like the outdoors much. Funny, I thought, seeing as her man was all about that. Even though I went, my mind wasn’t there. I was thinking about what happened the entire time.
We arrived back at the cottage later that evening. As soon as I arrived, he glared into his yeti a few times with water in it. I am so stupid, I thought to himself. We were all tuckered out, me especially, so we all ended up going to sleep.
The next day, Ross was playing bad mitten with Sarah. I went out and sat.
"How'd you sleep?" I asked him.
Ross replied, "Good as can be expected."
I nodded. "So it's 12 now, the parade starts at 2:30, I was thinking we better get going soon."
"This daughter of yours has got a hand. Game might last longer than that."
"Seriously, we better go."
After a moment, Ross answered, "Well the parade was just a ‘maybe’ right. I mean--this is fun."
"Alright. I'm going," I muttered to himself. I wanted to see it.
I went in to wash my hands and get my clothes on.
"Honey! Guys look at this!" Riley suddenly called from the den. On the TV, there were police at the scene of where the parade started, and lines blocked off, people surrounding the scene with phones out, and the local news covering the event. Apparently, four people were shot--there was a shooting from a disgruntled government employee, professionals think.
"Oh no," said Ross.
Sarah came in with her earbuds in and her phone and eventually Shay too.
"Oh my god," said Sarah.
I stared bewildered at the TV. It was the event I saw happening.
"Oh God four people were shot. Oh God," Riley says.
Eli grabbed the remote and changed the channel.
"Hey Bro," said Ross, "what--what's the--"
"Dad what the f-!"
"Watch your mouth--" Eli shouted at his daughter.
"Something wrong--Eli?" Riley was worried.
"No. No," I whispered, inaudibly anyway. His hand twitched as he thought. Immediately he went to his phone and opened up a spiritual ebook that my friend from work gave me. I read some of it. And sat on the toilet and read some.
He couldn't find anything that related to seeing visions. But I looked intently. After I flushed and got up and turned around to close the lid, I looked into the toilet, and saw another vision. I just went to bed.
When I woke up, I was shivering. I went out of the room and looked around. Riley was in the kitchen rinsing something off in the sink.
"Oh Eli! You've been asleep for hours."
I rubbed his face. "Yeah."
"Everyone went to town to shop around."
"Oh. Ok."
There's a pause.
"Riley."
"Yeah?"
"Wh-- You and Ross are Scientologists right?"
'Not Ross, he doesn't -- care about that or just thinks it's over religious."
"What, ah are the fundamentals of scientology. I'm kind of interested."
She told me about her beliefs for a few minutes.
"What got you interested?" She inquired.
I paused for a moment. " I don't know."
It was in the afternoon when my family and Ross’ came back from their excursion.
"Hey Dad, look," Sarah held out something for me to see from her day out, which I didn’t look at.
"Ah nice." I replied with utter enthusiasm.
"What are you doing?" Sarah glanced over my shoulder.
"Typing."
She came closer and looked at my laptop intently as the others dispersed.
"Scientology?" She spelled out.
"What do you know about that," I teased tauntingly, not looking up.
"Heard about it."
Riley and Conner made a spectacular summer dinner for that night and we went outside to picnic. It was dusk, and the stars were beginning to be visible as the sky darkened. Ross also grilled up some of his irresistible shrimp and steak shish kabobs. We sat on benches and around a table, eating corn on the cob, as I mixed some margaritas at a setup outside, and we all enjoyed the view of the shimmering lake in front of us.
"Beautiful night isn't it," Ross said to Riley.
I yelled at my daughter, "Get off your phone! Gosh child look at the sky, it's amazing!"
She put down her phone and took a bite of corn on the cob.
I had my ipad in hand, still looking into my new obsession.
"Honey, what's so intriguing?" Riley asked.
"Ah." I shook my head. "Nothing now." I closed it up, pushed it aside and stood next to Ross, drink in hand.
"What are we doing?" I asked.
"Just watching the sunset."
"Beautiful."
Shay sat across from Hannah.
“How old are you? I forgot,” he asked.
“13.” She looked up.
“I'm 15. That's cool though. You're pretty cool.”
“Yeah.”
He nodded to himself. They talked some more and found they had some in common. They went inside and talked. He got a beer.
“Hey you're not supposed to get that,” Hannah said loudly.
“Shut up! God.” And she did.
They talked and Shay tried to make a move on Hannah, but she said, “Hey no bro. I'm gay.”
“You're gay!?”
“Yeah. Are you homo or whatever?”
“No, but oh my god I can't believe you're gay. Like a lesbian. Wow.”
She blushed.” I mean we can still be friends and stuff.”
“Dang. I wanted to like fuck you. But yeah I guess you're like not cool with that.”
She looked down. “Dang. I'm only thirteen.”
“Don't tell you mom and dad.”
She didn't say anything.
“My parents don't want me to have sex.”
“It's okay. You're cool.”
Before long Ross began telling one of his fish stories.
“Give me a break,” I laughed.
“No really, he was big as this table!”
The sun was just moving below the far horizon. “Tell them about your promotion, hun,” said Riley looking my way. Right. That promotion. I thought back to my meeting with Jam in the diner. I felt bad that I still hadn’t told my wife about this “special job” that I had taken up. We really needed some extra money. I looked over and spun the pink liquor around in my glass.
“I have Steve’s job now, I am over production,” That wasn’t a lie.
“Hell, Eli,” said Ross.
“Yeah...it takes a lot out of you but it’s a great position. Best part is the free benefits. Free uh, doctor and house insurance. Life insurance.”
Ah.”
“It’s great. Great, Ross.” I replied. I put the glass to my mouth, but then jerked it away, remembering it was alcohol.
“Yeah.” Ross took a drink. “The job. The position is what matters.” Ross licked his teeth. “That’s it, my man.


The next day we packed up and went home. Then, back on Monday, back to work.
“There's no way we're going to be able to get this out in time,” Phil said worried.
I looked at the charts. It was good, it was executable. I have no idea what happened.
“We have to think of something new now,” Phil said again.
I shook my head. “There’s nothing. We’re out of time.”
“What about Samantha from Operations,” Phil replied randomly.
“What about her?”
“Remember when we had that luncheon and Tim told that joke about Starbucks and macaroni salad?”
“I think so,” I blinked.
She started going on a rant about how everything we sell is ruined by the value of our partners, who sell our subscription boxes, ya know, in bundles with other cheap junk.
I looked at him, bidding him to continue.
“Then Jim, Jim was it, broke in and said that the little flotsam that the other companies sell with our stuff actually sells some of the things we make that wouldn’t sell anyway.”
“Okay.”
“He said,” Phil continued, “how a lot of times the little junk they add on increases perceived value. We need to add something to what we’re selling. Something easy, cheap--
And then profits of the boosted price will make up for lost time.”
I shook my head. “That won’t get past our boss--” I stopped midsentence, remembering one of the visions I had before. It was a really ridiculous one.
Phil finished his monologue as I came back to reality, and shook his head, “That’s my idea--”
“Shh!”
“What?”
“I know how to get this approved by Thompson.”
At home: I slapped mail on the table next to our kitchen.
“Hey honey. How was your day,” Riley asked as I came in the dining room.
“You know, it was a day,” I said.
“What are you off to now?”.
“Sleep. Sleep, sleep, sleep. I’m exhausted.”
She pulled down a glass of wine from a cabinet above her, “I had ideas.”
Eli put his head down and chuckled. Looks like I might have regrets if I don’t change my mind.
He took a glass of wine and poured it and handed it to his wife. Then he poured one for himself and sipped. Wine is the only liquor I drink. On occasion.
“Any nasty clients?” I asked her.
“This one guy, she forked her fingers through her hair and exhaled. New guy. Bob. Has an aversion of green beans. Terror practically.”
“Green Beans?” I said unbelieving.
“God yes.”
“What happened, did his-- did his mother’s cooking kill someone in his family or, or--”
“He hasn’t told me but whatever it is--” she sipped “--wow. I might pass him on, I don’t know.”
“Whatever you do, make sure you take care of yourself. I mean I wish I had more time for you and Sarah. Work has been really demanding.”
My phone vibrated. I took it out of his pocket and looked at it.
Seeing the look on his face, my wife asked, “Something happen?”
“No, just. Just more work.” I rolled his eyes but swallowed. She noticed me swallow.
After a little pause she said, “You don’t have to hide anything honey. I am a therapist.”
I smiled and drank, “Makes it a pain in the arse to keep secrets.”
She laughed nervously.
We drank a bit more. “One thing I don’t get with people. People. He said. People don’t ever, ever like to keep things in place. Schedules, appointments, people are so wishy washy and blow over it annoys-- the living shits out of me. That’s why I married you, Mar. You at least have a mind to follow a straight path.”
After that, II went to go take a bath. I drew the water and got in, sat down, and closed my eyes. After a little, I looked at my phone at the reminder to be out at 4am to do the marking job. I leaned back in the bathtub and exhaled. And when I looked down at the water, I saw another vision. I immediately got out of the bathtub and thew up in the toilet.
“Are you alright honey?” Mar asked.
I said yes, and managed to get up from the toilet. Then I went to bed.
At 4 my alarm went off. I couldn’t get up. But I did. I pushed back the covers and put on my inconspicuous uniform and went to the location I was scheduled for. It was a warehouse on the southside of town, several miles from the nearest building in a bare location with not many trees around. It took an hour to arrive there. As soon as I arrived, I sent a text out and waited for a reply. Receiving an OK, I took the marker tool from the arm rest. I looked at it, turning it around; what in the world was I doing with this thing again? When I stepped out my vehicle, I simply shuffled through the front gate like, anyone who normally works at that abandoned warehouse. Just scanned my tag, then went in to a section in the back left.
My job was to walk through the whole building and scan what I thought would be suspicious. I had no idea what I was looking for. I just walked around and scanned, walked around and scanned, running into other guards and people along the way. But that was okay. Pam told me that would happen--Eli was just another employee, no alarm. The second floor was a swinging platform hanging by terraced metal beams--thankfully I’m afraid of heights at all. When I was nine, me and my family moved to Nevada near the Rockies, and my brother and I frequently went to the rim of many jagged cliffs. Over time the nerve wracking feeling of being hundreds of feet above the ground below vanished. I hoped it would be the same with this job, because I swore I was being watched by cameras everywhere. My ridged boots clanked on the floor, and I took a bit of time to take in that I was alone, not something I liked to do much, or rather cared for, but now it seemed like a relief and felt like a time to think. Think about what. God. What the heck was I doing? I couldn’t think about that though. It was “ridiculous,” I said the word outloud to myself, literally. I exhaled. I rubbed my eyes, and went back to daydreaming again... Steadily I walked, glazy eye, glancing back and forth around my perimeter. Hannah did deserve more of my time, I felt bad about that. She had a dance meetup recently...ah I forgot something. Yes definitely. I had a notion to look at my calendar to see what it was but knew now wasn’t the time. I was falling asleep! I felt it. I breathed in deep and stood up a little straighter. The randomly, I thought of Riley. I shook my head. Riley. What. She was attractive. I nearly tripped over a cannister. It made a bit of a noise. Still there was no one around. I looked at the barrels and rubbed my hand around the side. Nothing. I was at a corner now so I just kept following the hanging terrace around the corner, seeing it went up another floor, I picked up my step a bit and ascended. Up here there were cardboard boxes, nearly covering the entire floor. I glanced around. I supposed I should check them all...or perhaps they all contained the same thing. I opened one and it was filled with flasks covered with metallic paper. He peeled back some of the paper and inside was nothing. I shuffled through the contents and came across some packs, also metallic on the outside. There was black system text on the front and back like the font for “Expires on” you see on food packaging. It had technical information about corrosive chemicals. Looking around, I saw a metal pole. I quickly put a mark on the pole and closed up the box. At the end of the day, I checked out and texted Pam when I was done.
"So I told him we’d be in touch," Pam said that sitting across from his boss at that same diner he met me at.
"Okay." His boss took a bite. "How ‘qualified’ is he, for lack of a better word."
"He fits. Compared to our other guys he's good,” Pam replied to his boss.
"Okay." The guy across from Pam was younger man, Asian. He swiveled his fork around in his food and took another bite.
"What." Pam could see his thoughts.
"We have no time for okay men. And our pool of optimal candidates is incredibly small. You know the importance of this work, so I won’t push my point. But always keep the bigger picture in mind."
Pam looked down at his food. He nodded his head. "I will continue to choose the best men and women I see fit. I will," he assured.
"Another thing." This boss took out a phone and held it up. "We’re going to be using these to mark. App is installed, hardware is built into the phone."
Pam held it and looked at it.
He snubbed his nose. "What’s the improvement? It’s bigger. It’s a phone. Sure it’s less conspicuous than the flashlight we were using," he said sarcastically. "But it’s more luggage. So…"
"I don’t know, I just follow orders," The boss said. But he did know. Suddenly he asked, “What’s this guy’s motivation?”
Pam saw this question coming. “I don’t know. But if I put my money on it....he’s running out of money.”
“Rich life has a lot to keep up with.”
“That or he has a large outstanding debt that’s coming due. Haven’t asked outright. I’m sure such a heavy motivation wouldn’t be good for his work at all,” he said with a touch of sarcasm that almost went unseen.
“His position may be in danger.” the boss replied.
“Could be.” It was a good point, perhaps.
The boss got up to leave.
Pam got up and sat down next to Eli who was at the bar.
“I feel like he knew I was right here.” I said, my voice cracking.
“There’s a good chance.”
I looked down. “I’m not going to work for you if there’s some kind of bull going on, point blank. Keep the cards on the table, please, is all I ask.”
“Believe me, I want to do that as much as you. I will ask much as I’m allowed.”
I nodded.
“You did just what we were looking for, I’m very happy with the results we got, and that interesting box you found. It’s not anything but it could lead to something.”
“What does the government want to use this information for.”
“Peace efforts, specifically keeping peace in Europe between Bolivia and that uprising. Watching out for immigrants mostly.”
“Peace with the threat of war. Typical Government strategy, eh.” It was a statement really. “What do you think your… boss thinks of me. I mean--” I stopped, thinking it was kind of obvious.
“With him, you have to let it be for a while. Can’t be so sure. But um, I’ve emailed you your next spot.” Pam looked at me as if to ask if I check my email.
“Alright.” I replied.
“Alright then. You stay safe and enjoy your day.” Pam smiled, shook my hand, and got up.
“Take these papers too--I almost forgot, dang it.” He reached into the folder he brought in with him and removed a packet of papers. “I emailed you the spot too, but I’m giving you a physical copy. This is the -- here let me just,” he set the packet down and I looked. “The layout of this next gig is different. There are a few rooms you will have to avoid at all costs. These I highlighted red.”
I stared in Pam confused.
"Reason being-- they’ve got eyes,” was his reply.
“Okay.” I replied concerned.
“You can trace around here, and here, and go around.” He also showed me the entrances of the rooms I should avoid. "If anything happens--just--call.”
“Ok.”
I left, and before I left, turned back, and looked at Pam. I whispered,
“What about my family. If anything happened to me, would my family be ok?”
Pam, looked away for a moment. “This is an important job and as you know there’s a risk here. I’m confident we will fight, legally, for you and your family were anything to happen. Were something bad, physical to happen...we’ll make sure nothing happens. Again, just call me about anything, Mr. Laffe.”
Then I nodded in finality, and left. But in the back of my head I knew my family wouldn’t be safe. And I wasn’t safe in this job. Yet I also knew I was in this for good until the war between Russian and Bolivia ended.
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